On The Run - Swan Queen
by Lee Austen
Summary: After the most dangerous drug cartel casts a net of rage and murder on the Bronx, an NYPD Cop collides with the wife of the ruthless mafia boss. And even as they race through time to find answers among bloodshed and injustice, Emma can't deny that she's desperately falling in love with Regina; a woman who wants to be free.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining in the Bronx on the night of June 3rd.

The pavements reflected water that had cleared the muck and garbage away down sewers, swelling with rats and god knows what else. There were small rivers on the streets, and flapping window blinds as the wind howled and twisted around the neighborhood. The gangs on street corners huddled close, puffing on rolled up joints and exchanging money for drugs. And whilst they were dwindling in their trade, no one was entirely anticipating the chaos that would ensue merely two minutes in the future.

Emma, hovering over Will's shoulder, bit into a chocolate donut and stared directly and the flat screen. The target was seated behind a wide table with two burly men flanking him on the left and right. Drinks were on the house apparently. Two bottles of Jameson Whiskey and four crystal tumbler glasses. But for two long hours since they had been monitoring the scene within the bar called 'The Dividers', a fourth person did not grace the table. And the blonde was beginning to wonder if perhaps the missing piece was a casual bystander, about to clip them behind the ears in what could be the biggest drug bust in the Bronx.

The white van, disguised as a delivery mobile unit, rocked a little as Killian climbed in gracefully. He was late as usual, and Emma's glare directed enough insults to soften that wide smile upon his handsome face.

"Wife got held up in traffic," he explained nevertheless, "so I had to pick little Andy up from school. How are we faring?" He nudged shoulders with Emma as the screen was studied by three pairs of eyes. Jones immediately smiled after highlighting the scumbag seated behind the table. It had been too long.

"Two uniforms pinned to the back entrance and six plain clothes inside," Emma said warily.

"And cars?" he caught a whiff of vanilla perfume on her uniform, and smiled because that was evidently the signature scent of Emma Swan.

"Six stationed around the block and two further up on 4th. Are you geared to go inside or not?" However, the blonde's infuriation towards his lateness had not dissolved.

"Look, I am sorry I was bloody late," he said, spreading out his arms. "But my son needed to be picked up from school. Annie is working over time."

"Then get a goddamn babysitter to do it next time," she growled, snatched up the walkie and stormed off towards the side of the van. From there, emerald eyes peered through the heavily tinted glass and onto the front of the bar that was now being occupied by a newspapers vendor.

To any innocent bystander, it appeared as a normal setting; with a man trying to make a fair day's profit on the daily news. But to someone who frequented the street often, they would immediately highlight the replacement and wonder where the hell was Bill Warren. By then, Bill was probably at home watching a game of soccer and sipping on a Budweiser. In his place was a cop; Stanley. Armed and one of her best.

"He's making a move," came Will's alarmed voice from the front of the van. "Boss. It's now or never."

Adrenaline kicking in, Emma hit the button on her ear piece with a cold finger and whispered, "show time. Get in and go hard."

There was static. "Not yet, you idiot," came Savory's voice through the radio, loud and clear and obviously angered by the command. "Give him time to spread out a little. And for fuck's sake, Swan, anyone who's giving commands, it's me. You're just working in the DIU."

DIU, as many might not be fully aware of, was the abbreviation for the department Emma had been beating up dealers in for four years; the Drugs Investigation Unit. She was just a high ranking uniform because of favoritism for busting drug dealers and cracking down on dirty cops. But Savory was a burly female lieutenant who outranked her, in size and attitude. And it wasn't the day for the two of them to have another fist fight. Whilst Savory had been in the NYPD for close to fifteen years, Swan only had four under her belt as a lieutenant. And that was where the quarrel ended. Until there was static from someone's earpiece and within a minute, the blonde perhaps made either the best or worst decision of her career and life.

"Fuck! They've got Savory!" Will cried, springing up and holding his head in disbelief.

On the screen, the lieutenant was being choked in a vicelike grip as another man armed with a rifle kicked her square in the stomach. The plain clothes officers in the surrounding area were trying to beat them off but the tugs were ruthless. Guns blazing, two more appeared and Savory fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes between them.

Killian sprang into action, darting past Emma and pulling open the side door to reveal a deserted street lit by lamps. Yellow from the glow cast by them, the rain still came in a drizzle. Those green eyes followed his progress across the wet pavement. Black boots smashing puddles, his deliberate attempt to ignore her by entering the bar without being ordered to wasn't really pleasing. No. This wouldn't be the end of it. Not today. Not never, Emma thought. And suddenly, Will found himself alone in the van as the door slid shut.

Within two minutes, she jogged down the alley reeking of urine and beer and towards the back of the bar. Then making a leap for the top of the concrete fence, Emma pulled herself up. She could literally feel her heart pumping from adrenaline as those black boots landed safely upon the grass on the other side.

Savory should have hauled her ass out of there before this all went down. Should have stationed herself outside in the van. But no, as a directive from the Chief, she just had to be up close and personal. It was almost as if the lieutenant didn't quite trust Swan commanding her uniforms. And that was the part that pissed the blonde off. Not pulling ranks. But the obvious attempt to plant herself in the midst of danger because the two of them had a hormonal history between each other.

Now as the back entrance was spared from the two cops that were standing on guard, Emma shouldered the metal door open and strode in. With her gun leading the way, those green eyes scanned every inch of space before proceeding in a haste. Barrels lined the faded yellow wall covered in peeling paint. The smell of urine was strong throughout her transgression down the narrow corridor. An oil painting of Jesus Christ was tilted sideways on the wall. And just by the door next to the Messiah, she heard a soft thud and the scrape of a heel.

Slowly nudging the door open a crack, green eyes rested on the back of a woman's figure. Brunette. In a red dress that hugged every damn curve. With a cute ass. Enough glory contained in one figure to drive any man insane from just a rear view. Damn those types though. They were the ones who could kill you slow with poison. Sparingly, she felt herself digressing from the allure.

"Hands up," Emma said forcefully and aiming her gun.

Dropping the black handbag that was clasped in her right hand, the brunette slowly complied. And Swan immediately fawned over the flawless glow of her honey colored skin that welcomed not a blemish.

"Turn around just as you are," she ordered, already falling into a breathless trap.

Eventually as the demand was abided to, but slowly, the blonde's green eyes widened after recognition washed over her. Not from becoming familiar with each other on a face to face basis. But finally being confronted with a woman who was by then, known by every damn cop in the state of New York and four states over. Even in Mexico, she possibly had to be famous. With those soft brown eyes that could simmer down anyone's fire. The same pair of eyes that had gazed around the bullpen from a photo on the board at the DIU for four years. And belonging to no other than…

"Regina Mills-Perez," Emma stared in awe. The brunette smiled in acknowledgement and dipped her chin a little. "Guess this is your lucky day." Swan moved swiftly after pulling out her handcuffs. But as she invaded the older woman's personal space, the scent of jasmine consumed her within a small pocket. And she was instantly drawn into the flowery magical daze that was threatening to entrap her.

"Why would you arrest me, officer…" those brown eyes considered the gold plate on Emma's chest as she was handcuffed, "Emma Swan? What have I done to warrant this kind of treatment by the NYPD?"

"Don't get me started lady," the blonde produced in a wary tone. With the cuffs on, she still kept her gun out and aimed at the door as they began to retreat from the stinking bathroom. "Save your questions for later though. Right now we're kind of busy."

"I am a citizen of this country who pays her goddamn taxes," Regina argued fair and square as she was quickly led through the back door. "I demand that you provide a suitable reason for my arrest. Or else I will sue the…"

"Take her to the patrol car," Emma handed the squirming brunette over to a uniform stationed at the door. When she had so desperately needed the assistance from the fucking force a few minutes ago, no one was standing guard outside the place. "And keep an eye on her," Emma warned him.

"Sure ma'am," Keeley said before he tugged the growling woman away.

Swan found herself remaining in the same position for a few seconds whilst Regina retreated from where she had been. For some odd reason, a wave of cool doubt was rising within her chest and there was no suitable explanation as to why it had been initiated. She had to command the facts to the forefront of her mind and base the arrest on a justified platform before heading inside again. But was it truly an arrest? Swan realized only after entering the building again that she hadn't read the brunette her rights because why? What in the world could they charge Mills for? Aiding and abetting in a conspiracy without evidence?

How laughable it was.

Fifteen minutes later bullets rained inside the bar. Scuffles ensued everywhere as men decided to worm their way out, fighting and tugging each other until blood was drawn from nails biting into the flesh of cops. But with gratification, Machavano Perez was arrested and tackled to the ground. He put up a damn good fight till the end though, whilst four officers had to pin his face down. And even though this could possibly be the last pleasurable spot for a man like him before heading to prison, Perez's eyes glinted with malice and he was led outside laughing gleefully like the maniac he was.

Now, as she sipped on some cold coffee riding alongside Killian in the squad car, the blonde could finally replay the details of the case within the swirling contents swimming up from the last four years.

It all began with four dead bodies outside a beat up club on 5th and Main Street called The Dividers.

Back then, the streets rained with terror from the bloody crime scenes that graced the newspapers every damn week. People were terrified to remain as residents in the Bronx. All because the Red X Cartel was deliberating flicking off men like flies without a care in the world for the lives of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. In alleyways, in supermarkets, behind schools and even in the park where children played. Where Neal would sometimes take Henry to ride his small red bicycle.

She shuddered after recollecting that one afternoon that Cassidy decided to skip town to tend to of his ailing mother, leaving their wide eyed four year old son within the depths of the NYPD with Emma.

Glancing at Killian as he swore from spilling some of his hot coffee onto the lap of those finely tailored black pants, the blonde remembered Henry using a blue ink pen to scrawl her name on a sheet of paper. Then one minute after, there was a terrible shootout in the park, just where he would have been if Neal's mother had remained in good health.

After then, they planted spies on the streets and squeezed as much information as they could out of creditable sources. Men like Bentley and Fenwick who were small drug dealers and had familiarized themselves with the trade well enough to divulge facts. Like the names of the big ones. The _kahunas_ , as Bentley called them. Dirty ring leaders that bit huge chunks out of the drug money and spit the wealth into their fancy lifestyles that consisted of gold watches, expensive footwear and black tuxedos. Their sources weren't tough to crack. They were the kind of men who willingly spared information without a hassle because they were promised that when trouble came knocking, the NYPD would throw in a cheat card to free them from the shackles of injustice.

After some time when she had been a rookie though, and under the wing of Savory, their interest in the cartel grew by the day. The drawing boards as the unit called them, were covered in pictures of the victims that were slowly and surprisingly revealed as members of the Red X. The most savage cartel to exist in those times. Arrows were drawn from one motive to the other; crimes of passion, karma, bad blood or laying off their members with a bullet to their heads. And all through it, Swan transfixed her eyes on the wrath and explosions from Savory as she persevered and hammered the Bronx for the source of all the chaos.

In a way, Emma admired the woman. As stubborn and conceited as Savory had been over the long years of fighting in the muck of crime and drugs, the blonde took a few pages out of the woman's book. By being the shiny face rookie four years ago, Swan had unfolded into a force to be reckoned with. The one officer in the Drugs Investigation Unit that most of the uniforms feared because of her pushy way in obtaining answers. So that when Emma took over the department early last year from favoritism and sheer luck as they all called it, Savory wasn't in the least bit impressed or willing to cooperate.

"For fuck's sake," Killian muttered as they swung into the drive by because his stomach was growling, "I think the woman's got the hots for you. It's been years now. We're all aware that she's gay. And if I might admit, hoping that my wife doesn't hear me, you are without a doubt, the sexiest woman in the NYPD."

"Keep your eyes on the road," she said, shaking her head, even though Jones was handling the wheel well enough.

"You should take your head out your ass once and awhile, Swan," Killian suggested in a light tone. "And realize that we're friends. Stop treating me like a goddamn piece on a chess board."

"I'm just in a mood," she admitted. "Sorry, man."

"Even after we just busted Machavano?" he was impressed, staring at her in awe and wondering how on earth the lead officer in the DIU could fall into depression after what had just unfolded. Bricks had been thrown at them for years on end. Now, they had finally caught the ringleader. Wasn't she supposed to be impressed?

"I don't know. I just feel like something's going to happen and I don't know what it is. Paranoia always shits my mood up." Emma confessed. She couldn't eat. So Killian ordered a fish sandwich alone.

As much as the whole ordeal was supposed to create some kind of excitement though, Swan wasn't feeling it. The night was shadowed at minutes to seven o'clock. Henry was staying at Neal's apartment for the weekend whilst she had to work endless shifts. Perhaps appearing like a terrible mother who couldn't be home every night because of her superhero job, as Henry would call it. She was out saving people whilst he was playing board games with his dad or watching television on a Friday night. And she couldn't quite shake the feeling of being a disappointment to him.

Now the rain suddenly came down in sheets. Killian parked the car on the curb and sunk into his sandwich. Emma, however, stared out the window and found more shadows through the haze of people running from one destination to another. People who had normal lives that didn't involve guns and criminals. With warm meals waiting for them in comfortable homes instead of microwavable soups at nine o'clock in the night from the NYPD's headquarters.

"You know, I thought that he would have known about us," Killian said as the rain hammered down upon the roof of the car. "Seen us coming. Heard something, maybe. After all, we've been locking down on his location for years now. And every time we get this close," he held up two fingers with merely an inch between them, "he wriggles out unharmed."

Emma smiled a little. Her fingers drummed over the small pocket on the door. "Every dog has its day. He couldn't run forever."

"And the wife?" Jones seemed surprised. "Hitting two birds with one stone? Bloody hell."

"The fourth glass was for her," Emma said softly with her eyes glassy.

"Huh?" He considered the blonde's face.

"There was a fourth glass," she said looking at him directly. "On the table in front of Machavano. And he had two men there. I kept wondering…why four glasses."

"Must have been a planned romantic evening," Killian shuddered from just the thought of it. "I wonder how mafia men treat their wives. Like shit, I bet. Hitting them around like a punching bag whilst they shower them with enough money to buy all the fancy cosmetics the world can provide."

"And the clothes," Emma reminded him with a small smile. "She was wearing this red velvet dress that hugged every curve with these expensive looking knee high brown boots. I swear, her entire outfit was plucked out of a copy of Vogue. And her face is flawless. I mean, photos just don't do her full justice. Up close, she is hands down, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Don't let Savory hear you talking like that," Killian said with a grin. "She might bust your head against the sink."

"I mean, she was…wow," Emma stared through the window into the night as it rained heavily still.

"Well if she's got a straight woman like you drooling over her," Jones joked whilst balling up the wrapper from the sandwich, "then I have to admit, I believe you. Men in the mafia just don't pluck wives from corner shops and alleyways. They pick the finest looking beauties. Look at Ricardo Vasquez that we arrested a year ago about two corners from here. He had a Russian wife that looks like a Barbie doll. Too bad he couldn't make it last."

Emma sighed. "We should head back before Savory puts out a BOLO on me. God knows she's just waiting on me to slip up so that I can be sacked."

"Or she wants you under her," Jones winked whilst kicking the engine to life. It roared under the hood.

"Asshole," Swan grumbled, still staring out the window.

One hour later, and completely pissed, the blonde found herself jogging up iron steps and onto a hazardous platform within the depths of a safe house. Cursing Savory under her breath, she honestly believed that their last confrontation would have ended in a fist fight. If it hadn't been for the chief strolling in and on his way home, the two of them might have really bashed each other's heads onto the desks littered with paperwork.

It had been a long night and Emma had been holding onto a sliver of hope that she could run into her apartment and retire early. Possibly by then, as she nodded at the officer standing by the door, there would have been a tub of ice cream upon folded legs whilst she sat on her fluffy bed and binged on some random TV show. But no.

Savory had demanded, no threatened her to beat the shit out of Regina, for answers revolving around the cartel and the brunette's involvement in the ring. This was enough to tip the blonde a little over the edge in front of an audience of cops eager for a little drama on a Friday night. Gone were the days when walls bordered departments to keep out the nasty vermin like Savory from crawling in with her egotistical and pompous self. And now, Emma waited as Officer Willis keyed the door and nodded.

"Stand guard and don't move," she reminded him as dread covered her from head to toes twitching in those black leather boots. "I'll radio you when I want to come out. Apart from that, keep the door closed."

"Right, ma'am." His face remained grim.

Of all the places in the world to be walking into on a Friday night that was overcast, Emma found herself inside a very secured apartment. With metal bars on the windows, and no form of escape apart from the door, it wasn't exactly in close familiarity with a bar. Naturally, she scowled upon walking in and wished more than ever that her lonesome bed would suck her out of the god awful place and into a comfortable bedroom.

"I'm not a criminal, Miss Swan," was the first line Regina heatedly threw across to the blonde. Springing up from the distasteful looking red chair in the far corner, her eyes were bloodshot. The brunette looked entirely displaced. With her sophisticated appearance.

"Guilty until proven innocent," Emma wandered over to the bookcase containing a volume of the Oxford Dictionary. "That's the rule I live by. Didn't get into this job because of my looks," she presented to the older woman who considered her with the mellowest brown eyes. "I know a criminal when I see one. Especially one trying to hide a lot of dark secrets."

Regina merely gazed back at the blonde coolly. Wiping her palms upon that awfully sexy satin piece of clothing, the brunette sighed. "I thought that a woman like you would sympathize with me."

"Lady, I don't sympathize with anybody until they give me good reason to," Swan stated, as she leaned onto the bookcase with her arms folded. She considered the older woman warily. "So start moving down the list."

Something, however, flashed in those brown orbs and the sight of it unsettled Emma. For a moment, she stood there in silent consideration and wondered if perhaps a monster could ever inhabit the glorious form of the woman standing in front of her. But then, many times it had been easily proven. That monsters didn't only hide themselves behind rugged men and beefy women. Demons could be found twisting behind the façade of the prettiest woman who possessed the most glorious body any god could have sculpted to torment any human's sanity.

"050-134-245," Regina's stare never faltered. "You were born in Maine. Was raised in St. Ann's Orphanage until you were 16. By then night school presented a challenge financially. You worked at Joey's Burgers as a waitress for a while and then successfully enlisted in the Police Academy. With hopes," the brunette reveled in the younger woman's astonished countenance, "of becoming lieutenant one day. Today, you're the lead officer at the NYPD Drugs Investigation Unit…"

"Stop it…" Emma barely whispered with her green eyes as wide as saucers. "What the hell are you…"

"You're divorced. Living at 24 East and 4th," Regina continued with the same cool charisma that entertained no malice. "Guilty until proven innocent, you say to me? What about the secrets under your hood, Miss Swan? Although you're now an officer of the law, you've been exactly in the same trade I was forced into. Drugs. Your ex-husband Cassidy, was it?"

"I said stop it," Emma said through her teeth. Her fists were clenched eventually. How on earth could such a wealth of information fall into the hands of…then again, evidently when the right persons were squeezed, anything could leak out.

"He was in prison, served a sentence for…" the brunette lightly ran an index finger along the back of the dusty looking red chair, "what was it? Smuggling gold watches and cocaine. And you were no doubt part of the agreement."

"I had nothing to do with any of it!" Emma regrettably defended herself as audibly as ever. Head pounding, she couldn't believe what had slipped through those poisonous red lips. From a woman who had moments ago, been considerably quiet but deadly like a snake about to strike. "That's none of your business anyway. What the hell are you doing?"

Now, Regina smiled. She gleefully enjoyed the grand effect on the blonde. "I've been tasked with following you for a long time now. Do you recall the four deaths within a stone's throw from The Dividers? Four years ago?" that smile was so sweet and deadly now.

Emma feared that the devil was perhaps shedding his skin bit by bit before her very eyes. "How could I forget? I've been assigned to the case since then."

"Nobody digs into the Red X Cartel without going unnoticed," Regina studied her finely polished red nails. "Especially a police officer who refuses to back down until she unearths the truth."

"Did Machavano tell you to spy on me?" Emma's heart was thudding wildly in her chest. From out of fear and anxiety. It was like finally being able to peep into Pandora's Box, and all its twisted contents. "Because if he did, then that's no surprise. We've been trying to bust his ass for a long time now. Don't expect me to feel sorry for what happened."

"I don't expect you to feel sorry for any of this," Regina settled herself upon the arm of the chair, quite tentatively of course. Her grace was delectably fashioned to resemble someone of substantial upbringing. "Frankly, I am entirely pleased that you finally managed to. He is a savage beast who dwells on the weaknesses of others. He uses them carelessly and heartlessly to do his dirty jobs. I, on the other hand, am not a part of any of his operations."

"And you're his wife?" Emma scoffed, walked coolly to the window and by acknowledging the bump of the holster upon her right hip, somehow she felt safer. Not in terms of the availability of a weapon to defend herself against the woman seated merely a couple feet away. No. This wasn't about her. Because the blonde didn't view Regina as a threat.

Why? For a very long time, perhaps since the age of 12 or younger, Emma had a very unique gift of detecting two things from anyone. If they were lying and the level of danger they posed in the situation at present. In terms of the first, Regina had clearly produced the truth without holding back. She appeared to be willing enough to sabotage her husband at any costs, just so that an easy path forward would be available. Fair enough. After what Neal had dragged Swan into, she could literally feel the brunette's frustration and pain. Perhaps a little too much.

On the other hand, Regina's probability to become quickly dangerous was evident in that early flash within brown eyes. She had a very quick and burning temper that had been trained to subdue within a few seconds. Which pretty much proved to Swan that the woman had been extensively pushed to limits that not only managed to break every single piece of her into shards, but also limits that forced her to adapt in order to survive. Whether that training extended to someone else who guided the brunette, Emma wasn't sure. It could be possible that Machavano had been the teacher. And if he had, then Emma could be in the same room with a highly dangerous assassin who could kill her without the use of a weapon.

"Yes I am his wife. I am also his slave. He had done nothing but degrade my existence. To him I am worthless and a side piece. How many times have I showed up on your radar as a potential threat?" Regina was seated on the chair appearing as regal and composed as ever. Yet her voice faltered a little. "All you know of me, is that I am his wife."

"Don't try to play mind games with me," Emma warned, turning sideways a little but still maintaining a cool gaze into the night. New York never slept. "Anyone who thinks that you're not as guilty as he is, they're just kidding themselves."

"He abused me," Regina said suddenly in a softer tone. "I have scars on my body to pose as evidence."

Emma flinched inside. She could literally feel her heart becoming twisted from the very thought of it. Scars on a beautiful woman? A woman who probably fought tooth and nail to come up alive, maybe? To stay alive? No matter what, abuse to her was the devil's work. Played by his hands to belittle and embarrass, whilst attempting to strip someone of their decency. Men, like Machavano was the exact kind to degrade and not give a fuck about it. To kill and sleep like a baby at nights.

He had managed to pluck a very pretty wife off of the market, and instead of treating her like royalty, the bastard inflicted wounds that left scars. She didn't need proof to believe what Regina had said to her. A woman didn't lie about something like that. Because why would she lie about a man beating the shit out her? To be pitied? To appear weaker? When in a matter of all honesty, the regality displayed thus far proved that Regina was trying her best to appear modest. Since her arrest, the brunette had displayed nothing but composure that was admirable. To the younger woman, she appeared so dignified and graceful, her strength resonated and shone outwards with the kind of glow that deserved respect.

"If I am to prove my innocence to spare myself from a death sentence, then let me." She was pleading now. It wasn't of the most genuine quality since Swan detected a strain in the brunette's tone. But it was effective because her words were only the truth.

"Honestly, you don't have to say anything as yet. You haven't been charged with anything." Emma relaxed a little and suitably turned around so that their eyes could fully meet. What she presented was a look of sympathy. "We're just holding you here because you're his wife. In the law's eyes, you're as guilty as he is because of your relationship to him. You could be an accomplice."

"And to you?" Regina's brown orbs widened a little. She was hopeful. "Do you think of me as a horrible person?"

The blonde on the other hand, absorbed the way she was being looked at as a mild form of flirtation. "Hell, I don't even know," Emma shoved her hands into her pockets and smiled a little. She shrugged. "Like you said, I've been on this case for years now. Four to be exact. What I definitely know is that Machavano is guilty as fuck. He's going to prison for a long time. Might even get the death penalty. You on the other hand. You could get off without substantial evidence. No matter how you twist or turn this, Mrs. Perez…"

"Regina," the brunette said instantly. Her fingers were laced together. "Call me that. I want to have no affiliation to him."

Emma swallowed. First name basis always proved that certain connections were cemented that could be advantageous. "Regina. No matter how you twist or turn this, you're an accomplice though." First name basis also could be lethal. In this case, reducing herself to the older woman's level by lacking formality could sway the situation into a dangerous path.

"I am not an accomplice, Miss Swan," the older woman said stiffly. "I have been forcefully married to a man who is the devil himself incarnated. What has been brought upon me is not fair. No one can expect me to accept a sentence that is unjust. When I have not been the slightest involved in any of his operations."

"Then why were you there tonight?" Emma asked without holding back. Trying to be a wise ass, huh? Well her sexiness wouldn't create the kind of haze thick enough to conceal her guilt in. Not so fast.

Regina, however, sighed. "It is our wedding anniversary. And although he doesn't care about me, he has invited me for a drink every single year on this day. Just to celebrate our unfortunate union," she smiled as if to compel the blonde into believing that sarcasm was lacing every single word uttered.

"You hungry?" Emma ignored the questions buzzing around in her head.

Coincidence that she had been within the washroom tonight? Swan didn't believe in those at all. Not forgetting the honest confessions to a police officer. Which woman who was being held for involvement in a drug cartel would divulge so much information all at once? Savory would be proud. If not jealous of the dangerously growing bond between Emma and Machavano's wife. And now as she studied the older woman gracefully rising up from the chair, Swan noticed that she appeared fatigued.

"Would you mind if I made a quick call to check on my brother?" Regina asked, seeking out Emma's eyes for emphasis. "He's staying in my house for the weekend. I'd like to let him know where I am."

"Can't do, hun," Emma licked her lips. "He'll see the arrest made on the news, put two and two together and know where you are."

"Please, as a prisoner. Am I not allowed one phone call? Spare me the dramatics." The older woman awaited the verdict.

For two minutes, brown eyes latched onto emerald ones as a silent debate invaded Emma's mind. What felt like a wrong move couldn't be that devastating, could it? What would the brunette do? Phone her way out of the safe house? Would she ring up the aliens to zap her out of the apartment? Savory would throw a fit if she ever found out. But frankly, Swan didn't give a fuck about Savory.

So she handed Regina the burner the NYPD had gifted to her. "Go ahead. One call. I'm listening. And if I hear any funny business, you're going to regret it."

"You'll spank me?" the brunette teased with a smile? "For bad behavior?" She folded her arms and waited,

"More like aim my gun at you and count to three," the blonde replied without humor. "You're not my type anyway," she mumbled, turning around and heading back to the window. What was this? Kind of like one of those crime thrillers that spiraled into a romantic one night stand in a beat up safe house on the outskirts of town?

The sound of buttons being pushed filled the room. "It's a pity that you're exactly my type, Miss Swan," came Regina's hoarse reply that of course, immediately floored the younger woman.

Her eyes widened on the view below the window, never quite registering any of the action unfolding outside. What seemed like reality, gently dissolved into a sparkly kind of feeling that created tiny shoots of nerves through her chest. And clearing her throat, Swan ignored the line.

"Hello? Hi, it's Regina, my love. Yes. I am alright. Still in the Bronx, I'm afraid." A pause. There was the sound of someone on the other end although his words were muffled from the distance where Emma had planted herself. "Yes. Remember to check the security system. You can go ahead and play your video game. It's safe now since I'm not there. Make sure you win for me. Goodbye."

For some odd reason, when Regina ended the call, Emma felt her skin prickle a little. Why, she had no clue. Perhaps it was the manner in which the older woman had conducted the conversation? She hadn't informed her brother of the current situation. By then, he had to have heard of the showdown and arrest. So why was there no mention of it? And then the funny part about playing his video game since she wasn't there?

Something didn't settle right in Swan's chest as she accepted the mobile and realized that Regina refrained from making deliberate eye contact. However, their fingers brushed lightly and the reaction exposed from the mere gesture on the brunette's part was perhaps a little too much for Emma to process. Because Regina clearly made an attempt to collect the blonde's fingers into her warm ones with the mobile snugly in between their grasp. And she allowed their hands to stay that way for a few seconds before letting go.

Emma was puzzled until she recalled the older woman's last words to her. But then, it wasn't right. It wasn't justifiable to suddenly meet someone, especially in this kind of circumstance and develop any kind of feelings for them. Was it not unusual? And besides, look at the situation they had become tangled into. One that wasn't too pleasing. A drug bust. A safe house. A gun on her hip and that god awful beautiful satin piece on the other woman. The purring hoarse quality of her voice. Emma's shaky hands.

"You know, I'm not gay," Swan decided to clear the air. Now she was the one who had waltz back to the window without attempting to seek out a chance to have their eyes meet. "Just so you know. And if you happen to be, or if you're into men and women, then that's fine. I'm not the kind to judge."

"I'll delightfully accept your earlier offer on food arrangements," Regina deflected from the blonde's statement. "I'm famished."

She stared at the mobile in her hand for a long time, perhaps wounded a little by being cut off like that. Even as the wind drifted through the barred window and chilled Emma a little, she wondered about her obviously strange feelings and chose not to dwell on the moment any longer. Because why the hell would she dwell on those feelings? It was ridiculous. Totally absurd.

"Lemme guess," Swan began to dial the number on the lit up board from the place across the street, "a salad for you, right?"

"Yes. Nothing else."

"How will you run on that whole night? God knows when you're getting out of here. Why not get a burger?" She had chosen to turn around and now was immediately regretting it.

"Stop caring about me," Regina said warily.

Just to cast her eyes on Regina's face with her lovely brown eyes could be a dangerous crime in itself. Because the lady was seated there with the composure of a queen although also appearing really adorable. She had the kind of face that Swan would never in a million years become unfamiliar with. The kind of voice that seeped into Emma's mind and stole a place inside her memory. And even if she was not claiming to be gay, the blonde was beginning to realize the kind of persuasive powers a woman like Regina could distribute on a cop like herself.

"I'm human. Of course I'd care about someone in a situation like this. Sure my job requires me to believe the worst in you. But you're being honest with me and I can't hate you for that," Emma admitted, hands planted on her hips.

Within a few seconds though, her mobile began to beep loudly and taking the call, the blonde moved a little further into the room as she welcomed the Chief's greetings.

"It's bad news," he said immediately, and perhaps sounding pissed and relieved at the same time. "Are you still with the wife?"

"Yeah," Emma glanced at Regina and bit her lips.

"Say nothing. Just listen to me," his tone was reduced to a softer one that remained gruff. "A man posing as one of our own, just compromised the security at headquarters. He got in far enough to put a bullet between Machavano's eyes." Emma, although trying to mute her reaction, stared out into the night and couldn't believe it. "He's dead. Someone put a mark on him about thirty minutes ago and now it all seems that everything has been…" but his words suddenly drifted into a muffled babbling as Emma's ears began to ring.

Her hands suddenly felt as cold as ice. The oxygen in the room although the window was wide open had been minimized. Because thirty goddamn minutes ago, Regina had made that call using the burner phone. And thirty minutes after, her husband was shot execution style. And Emma didn't believe in coincidences. She should have trusted her gut, knowing very well that something had been really off about that call the brunette made to her 'brother'. And now, as the call with the chief ended, she suddenly felt the room grow so cold, even her blood was turning to ice.

What perhaps might be the first explosive encounter in a chain of life changing events, began with the older woman suddenly appearing behind the blonde. Within the split of a second, Emma was sandwiched between the metal bars on the window and a woman who was burning up with a burst of adrenaline behind her. What she felt was an all time high rise of her blood pressure and the switch into fight mode when Regina expertly pulled the gun out of Swan's holster. And then backing away, the connection between their bodies was broken.

Emma spun around, ready for combat and when their eyes met, tears were collected in brown ones.

"I will not shoot you," Regina said through her teeth. Enough color rested on those cheeks to signal that she had become too flustered. "Miss Swan, I have gained your trust and I do not wish to lose it. However, I can see the doubt in your eyes. I know what that conversation was about. He is dead."

"Just…give me the gun," Emma said in a level tone with her hands up from the elbows. "Then we can talk." Goddammit. Fucking hell. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I can't do that. It gives me an advantage over you." She sounded so robotic now, it was frightening. However, those brown eyes still remained soft from tears. "I know that the entire NYPD now believes that I did it. That I killed him. But I didn't. Someone else did me a goddamn favor."

"Why the hell would you even take it upon yourself to do something like that?" Emma asked in astonishment. "I get that he's hurt you but even if you were innocent in all of this, what just happens proves that you're a killer. When you made that call, you did something. Didn't you? You gave whoever it was, the okay to go ahead."

Regina's chest heaved. She still held up the gun though. "I beseech you to study the facts here. I did not shoot him. I was merely briefed on what would transpire. My husband has many hateful acquaintances who wanted him dead for a long time now. One of them could just as well have made that call. The list is too long for your department to go through but I am not to be thrown on that list because of my relation to him."

"A vengeful wife who hates his guts gives you enough motive," Emma provided with raised eyebrows. "When a man pisses off a woman, we are capable of thinking the worst things because of heartbreak. And I get it. I get that you hated him and you wanted him dead. But you can't just pull my own gun on me, man. I stood here and I listened to you. I was beginning to believe that you had some good in you. And now all I'm seeing is a woman who is trying to use the trust we have to force me into believing a lie."

They stared at each other.

Somewhere outside the door, Willis was probably nodding off and leaving everything to chance. Now, as she studied Regina's face, there was no way in hell the brunette did not initiate that execution. She had done something that warranted wrath from the NYPD, because they had big plans for Machavano. Like torturing him until he croaked out all the big ones in the Red X Cartel. The chief along with Savory wanted to grind him into the ground. Now they had nothing. It was like starting all over again.

But could it be that Regina had done what she did to perhaps create a purposeful dead end for the pending investigation? Could be.

"Give me the gun," Emma said, taking tentative steps towards the brunette whilst locking their eyes.

"You have to let me go, Miss Swan," the brunette said, never backing down.

"I can't let you go," Swan said in a softer voice that was the result of a hurricane of feelings in her chest. "You know I can't."

"You will."

"Regina, I can't. I'm an officer. I'm not your friend," and then when Emma had said those words, she regretted them because that flash ignited again in those brown eyes. It was like a little fire that burned and stung.

Within a span of four seconds, what transpired between the two of them would perhaps alter the blonde's belief in the brunette for a while. Believing that she would be able to settle the situation into a normal place again, Swan's hands folded around the gun. Her fingers wrapped around Regina's cold ones, now trembling. What she felt was sheer adrenaline rushing through her veins that sparked up an intrigue and interest in Regina which felt severely immoral. And then, even as those feelings were in check, the brunette used the advantage and pulled Emma. She twisted the blonde around so that she locked Emma in her arms with the gun pressed to blonde hair just spilling out from the younger woman's right temple.

"Fuck. Don't," Swan squeezed her eyes shut and awaited the obvious. She struggled within the older woman's grasp, feeling their bodies gingerly grind together. And as hard as she mustered up the strength to ignore it, the sensations travelling through her were too natural to erase.

Regina's warm breath was caressing her left ear now. "I wouldn't kill you. I keep my promises."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" Emma demanded to know, fighting within the tight grip on her midsection and limbs.

However, the brunette chuckled. "I want you to get me safely out of here. If you only sabotage me, I will knock you unconscious. Do you understand?" Regina wrapped her fingers around the blonde's throat and proceeded to apply just enough pressure.

Emma nodded, realizing how powerful the older woman was and hating herself for underestimating it. She couldn't even apply any defensive technique on Regina because the woman had her finger on the trigger. And although she had promised not to kill her, Emma didn't believe that. She couldn't believe anything escaping through the lips of a woman desperate to escape police custody.

Then there was the incredible power in Regina's body that stunned her. For even as Emma tried to twist around, it was entirely difficult to even accomplish moving an inch. The brunette had one leg twisted around the blonde's right calf, preventing her from moving and she suddenly felt so compelled to resort to surrender that it wasn't dignifying. Emma felt driven to a weaker stance that frustrated her entirely because she had been trained. She was sufficiently capable of flooring even Killian in a round of boxing, or lifting weights. And this one woman had managed to suck all her dominance out of her.

What seemed like a nightmare ensued as Regina led them both to the door. A tear slipped down Emma's cheek as she asked Willis in the softest monotone voice to relieve himself from the door to stretch his legs a bit. To run across the street and grab a burger for her.

It was a dangerous fire within those brown eyes though. It was frightful. And when Emma's legs tripped over the steps whilst heading downwards, the brunette's tight hold on her was still maintained. The gun remained upon the side of her neck now, and the mouth felt cold. So cold. She wondered if maybe Henry would ever see her again. If the heart of the woman holding her hostage could even have a sliver of consideration within to abort all of this.

"You're shaking like a leaf in a high wind," Regina kicked open the door and led them outside into a deserted alleyway that reeked of stale garbage. Somewhere, a cat yowled and a heavy rat shuffled out of view. The brunette finally allowed her grasp on Emma to slacken. "You're free to go," she suddenly said, breathless and smiling.

Swan stumbled a few steps forward after being released and then she weakly turned around. Their eyes met. Emerald ones contained the purest kind of bewilderment and then anger. Angry that she could have ever believed in any promising word this bitch had uttered to her in that closed space upstairs. Angry that she was beginning to feel something new. Something delirious and stupid and impure. For a heartless woman.

"You're a monster," Emma threw between then through her teeth. "You have no feelings, do you? What you just did?" Breathless too, the blonde's chest heaved. "It was something a sane person wouldn't do. You're out of your mind crazy. And…"

"I'm not a monster," Regina had been hanging onto every single word. The fire began to fade in her eyes. "And I'll prove it to you. You'll see eventually."

"You've got one last chance to get the hell back up there," Emma warned. She gestured onto the building, high rising and looming above. Small shadows danced across the alleyway. A cat crawled into view and then disappeared.

Regina, however, began to shake her head. "I'm not going back up there, Miss Swan. I'm going to walk away."

"Do you know how much trouble I'll be in if you do that?" The blonde was staring as her mind raced with thoughts. Of facing the chief and Savory's long, pitiful face whilst Swan packed her things into cardboard boxes.

The DIU would never be able to display the respect upon their faces that had been earned over the last four years. The officers assigned to her, even Killian might be ashamed of her mere existence. Of allowing a potential killer and accomplice to escape with her weapon? They would never trust her again on a further case.

"You're a really attractive woman," Regina was taking slow steps in the blonde's direction now. The gun was held loosely in her right hand. "I hate that you ended up in the mix. I wanted Savory to come on over so we could play. Not you. God no. Not you at all. I was hoping to meet you some other time. But alas, fate is a bitch."

Emma stared at her in shock. She was well informed. Then if she was aware of Savory's identity and hers, Regina had to have been fully aware of other things too. Like the plans they had been mapping out to corner her husband. The men they squeezed information from on the streets; their trusted confidantes. And if she had all this information available then it was not entirely possible that Machavano had really underestimated his wife's power in authority.

She could possibly be the next most dangerous mafia boss in the city because she was a woman with a broken heart and equipped with enough malice from his abuse.

"Bye bye, Emma", Regina said with a maddening smile as there was only but a foot between them. "Until we meet again."

"What are you going to…" But the brunette's hand with the gun came down too fast on her. She felt a sharp pain and then the world went black, fading into nothing for a long time.

 **Review for more!**


	2. Chapter 2

For the entire weekend, she was entertained by a splitting migraine that would not subdue even after swallowing pain relievers. Every time the phone rang through the apartment, and Henry brought it her, the blonde groaned. Because if it wasn't Killian ringing to check up on her, it was some other asshole from the NYPD that wanted to gloat from her failure. Because Emma had told the most surprising lie concocted from a long, and terrible night of tossing and turning from conflicting thoughts.

She admitted to everyone that she had willingly released Regina due to insufficient evidence obtained to add flesh to any obvious crime.

Now, even the Chief refused to have a decent conversation with her. Although she had the authority to let Regina go, he felt that a little more pushing wouldn't have been that bad. In other words, because he didn't get to stick his fingers into this one, Emma had behaved like a selfish officer. So for one minute tops he had tolerated Swan's presence in his office before commanding that she relieve herself from duty for two weeks.

Her badge was seized and of course there _was_ a weapon to go into the black tray on the chief's desk. Because Regina had willingly left the gun lying by Emma's side so that the blaring truth would confront her upon waking up. That the brunette had kept her promise. She didn't mean to implicate Swan. No. All she had wanted was to run free. So now, like a depressed puppy with his ears hanging low, Emma dragged her feet out of there and into the yellow bug parked outside.

Now it was Monday morning, and Henry kept staring at the bruised skin covering two inches over her right temple where the gun had struck down hard. Of course he couldn't understand how painful the world could become. How beautiful people turned into monsters and their blood boiled like lava when the law threatened to cage them up. But for a ten year old kid, he really was equipped with enough knowledge to decipher the true meaning behind a lie. So that naturally, when Emma claimed to have bumped her head on the roof of the car whilst getting out, Henry pretty much realized that someone had done it.

A corner away and moving at a slow crawl, was a black Jaguar with heavily tinted windows. The car seemed familiar, almost as if she had cast her eyes upon it on a prior occasion. Maybe as they were heading out a few minutes ago. Or from some time ago. But the make and model wasn't in abundance in the Bronx. Cars like those were driven by wealthy citizens who either earned their money fairly or were eyeballs deep in drugs. The latter seemed like the most obvious as the vehicle trailed behind them in traffic or slowing down to park on the curb.

Why would a regular person decide to suddenly follow her tracks if not with a justified motive? Regina, perhaps? Or one of Machavano's men? Keeping on the sidewalk in the eyes of passersby, she flipped on her hoodie, zipped up the front and headed towards Pete's Diner to kill some time.

After one week though, the Chief called her mobile to break the detention phase as if she was a petulant child. He claimed that they needed the manpower and great minds cannot go to waste. But she was still infuriated from being benched all because her own damn boss didn't believe in her worth. Really and truly she had done it before. Several times. So why was this time any different than the rest? Perhaps the chief had a bone to pick with someone in the Red X. Or maybe everyone was just waiting on her to fuck up so that they could spin their own webs of lies. Obviously that was what Savory thought as well when Swan walked into the compound the following Monday.

Her blue eyes rested on the blonde hovering over the water cooler and she sighed. "Look, it's a pity that you can't ever fall into his good favor," she referred to the Chief. "But suck it up and stop moping around. It's making me depressed."

"Good to know you care about my mental health," Emma said with a sweet smile, "but I really don't give a shit about you."

"Did Neal hit you up again?" Savory's eyes rested on the concealed bruise on Swan's temple. "You think powder and foundation can hide that from someone like me? I've seen my share of abused women."

"Don't try to pick my brains, Savory," Emma warned, sticking a finger out. "We're not buddies. I'm not the kind of woman who befriends someone who verbally abuses people."

And as Savory was thinking of a comeback, the blonde swiftly made her way to the conference room where the board of evidence was. Evidently, a few blanks had been shaded in. A big red X was pasted onto Machavano's photo on the top of the white board and now, right by his side, Regina's photo had been blow up and tacked into place. Had to be her ID card photo. She was a few years younger and smiling with a darker shade of brown eyes based on the light.

Emma found herself guiltily tracing the line of Regina's jaw until the throbbing began in her forehead and she swore.

"Been gone too long, boss," Will came in and rested his laptop upon the long table in the middle of the room. Jacks followed, another cop who worked along well in IT.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, black with no sugar, the blonde nodded at him and studied the board. "The Queen of Hearts?" she realized that the black marker scrawl was new under Regina's name. "Can someone explain?"

"So we did a lot more digging," Will began, "Turns out blokes kept mentioning the Queen of Hearts. The same person who Charlie the eyewitness from four years ago saw coming out of the car. It was a woman. She was dressed in black and wore a shroud. It's only natural that Savory decided that Regina is the same woman."

Swan wasn't surprised. It was almost as if the lead lieutenant found it pleasing to build on herself by absorbing credit from everyone else's work. Now, for the rest of the day, sparingly snatching a cup of cocoa from the kitchen, she buried herself into a shitload of information. She always refrained from plagiarizing within the office, hoping that doing a little digging on her own would unearth some substantial links that would aid in the investigation. With Machavano off the map now, one would ascertain that the case would grow cold. That the drug cartel would die away slowly. However, a cartel was essentially a corrupt business with a chain of command that eventually would adapt to accommodate the murder of their boss. There would be a lot of shifting around, and then regrettably more bad blood would flow through their veins. People were going to show up murdered on street corners and inside dirty safe houses. Drive by shoot outs as the drug trade spiraled out of control.

Now as Emma settled back into her chair, the blonde bit into a shiny green apple and frowned at the computer screen. Strange. Terry, a lieutenant friend from Mexico had done something quite under the radar by emailing her copies of case files on the Red X Cartel. Now, as she sifted through them, Emma realized that he had also sent an entire case file on no other than Regina Mills. Immediately, Swan pushed all the other paperwork aside and managed to peruse the 20 pages or more for the next four hours without distractions. Because she wanted to discover more. To break the hard shell on Regina's mind and heart in order to reveal the core. What made her tick? Why was she so forthcoming and so malevolent? What was she hiding behind that façade?

What Emma did find was probably capable of disarming her from any kind of futile hatred felt from their last encounter. Not that she was going to push what Regina had done to her under a rock. But now, here were the hurtful and painful facts about a woman who was evidently pushed until she cracked. Degraded until her heart was ripped to shreds. Twisted and torn around every corner of her life. No wonder the blonde saw through those shards of glass buried within the brunette's chest and she managed to catch a glimpse of a very composed and worthy woman.

Regina, by the age of ten, had been distastefully forced into the drug cartel whilst she was still inhabiting a mud flat along with her mother. In those days, Emma read carefully, the brunette assisted in smuggling what she believed to be packets of milk powder into other towns, innocently collecting money from dealers. A kid. A fucking child.

Emma flung her pen across the room in anger and frustration.

She was detained at just eleven years old for shooting and wounding a man by the name of Pablo Sanchez. The police ruled it as self-defense due to her accusations of rape. Although her mother believed otherwise and decided to kick the brunette onto the streets to fend for herself. Among strangers. No place to go. Emma's heart ached just imagining an eleven year old traversing the streets of some city in Mexico, whilst perhaps dwelling in the path of danger. Eventually, Regina disappeared from off the grid.

 _Sergeant Morales and five other officers penetrated the compound suspected to have prostitutes held against their will,_ Emma read in bewilderment. _What he found was a nest of rooms all shrouded by dirty curtains containing beds where girls were either handcuffed or drugged to submission. We managed to rescue two of the girls: Regina Maria Lopez and Marina Aguilar. After keeping them in a safe house for one week, gun men stormed the vicinity and kidnapped both girls. We believe them to be members of the Red X Cartel._

Holy fuck.

Without sparing one goddamn second further, the blonde buried herself into the following page. It was a copy of a newspaper article that had been translated from Spanish to English successfully.

 _May 4th, 1996_

 _A red light district in Ciudad Victoria was encased in mayhem last evening as gunshots rang out at 6:50pm. The establishment was known to be owned by the Red X Cartel who managed to house over 50 underage girls for human trafficking purposes along with prostitution. The police have been trying to crack down on the girls for a very long time only to realize that they are moved even before the building is breached. Last night, however, one of the girls shot and killed Julio Hernandez and Nicholas Ignacio; two of the owners of the brothel. In wake of the shooting, twenty of the girls were released by the ring leader who goes by the name of Regina or Maria who is sixteen years old._

 _Anyone knowing the whereabouts of this girl, please contact the nearest police station._

And attached was a sketch of a younger version of no other than Regina Mills, although they hadn't done enough justice to her beautiful. Or maybe, she had aged like wine; becoming more beautiful as the years passed by.

But dammit. Maybe being in total awe would serve as a warranted response from the information obtained? Awe and bewilderment that a child could arm herself with a gun in two instances, in the latter case, shooting to kill with such a vengeance. The depth of the feeling shook Emma to her core. Knowing fully well that any child crimes were distasteful. Trafficking children. The work of the devil. Those men who had been executed deserved what was brought onto them, the blonde thought as her blood boiled.

"Bloody hell, that's not right," Killian said later in the evening when the two of them shared a corner booth at a small and secluded bar. He stared at Emma and appeared as in awe as she had been. "It sounds as if she was dragged through hell and survived. No wonder she is desperate for her freedom."

The blonde considered him for a long time, absorbing the last sentence uttered with a newfound interest. That was it. The passion to escape. Because she detested being held against her will. The woman had been trapped for all her life. If not a prisoner in her mother's home, then one in a brothel. And then into Machavano's ring of worms. Now as they both shared a serving of fries with chicken fingers, the bar suddenly felt as if the red painted walls were closing in. She felt claustrophobic. With a dire need to escape the box inside her mind and to be set free like a butterfly with fluttering wings. The smell of beer was magnified to prolong the small throbbing nausea inside her stomach. And Swan had to pull off her jacket just to set her lungs free. Like two tanks deflating under pressure, they were screaming to escape.

"Sometimes I wonder why the world has to be so cruel on kids," Emma chewed on her chicken burger, with extra mayo and ketchup. "When I was nine, I was looking forward to the next Nancy Drew book I could get my hands on. The only thing I knew about a gun was that bad people used it. I couldn't even watch those gory movies with my dad. When I was sixteen, I had a face full of acne, hated Maths and I had a crush on Madonna, and John Travolta."

"You also met Neal," Killian reminded her. "With his big hopes and promises."

"Don't remind me about it," she shuddered. "I'm supposed to be living in a mansion in Beverley Hills by now, according to those dreams. With a wide lawn and ten cars. A manicure and pedicure every Tuesdays. A swimming pool in the backyard. Cocktails. Men."

"We aren't all that bad," Killian smiled at her. "Some of us refrain from making such big promises. We just want to make our wives happy. Annie knows that I'm a cop. She knows where we are financially. So a house in Beverley Hills might always be something she sees on the telly. I've also been teaching Andy to earn things. Not everything comes easy."

She admired him so much. The way he handled his family life. The importance placed on his wife and son. He wasn't that bad at all. "The mother," Jones' brows furrowed, "has she ever resurfaced?"

"We don't have a name," Emma told him with a frown. "Must have been using a false name for all we know. My guess is, she was always involved in Red X and is dead now."

"Or probably back in Mexico," Killian suggested. "Next time you and Regina have a chat over drinks on a date, maybe you can ask her."

"Screw you, man," the blonde scowled. She snatched up his glass of Whiskey and downed it in one gulp. Just to prove a point. Or perhaps, to dull the growing ache inside her chest resulting from a terribly confused heart. "What are the odds of her walking away on this one though?"

"Honestly? We have substantial belief that she was a direct accomplice to Machavano."

"She told me that she didn't have anything to do with the cartel or drug trafficking," Emma interjected whilst pouring another shot of whiskey straight from the bottle.

"Well it would pose as somewhat difficult for her to prove that," Killian said with an incredulous look.

"She has a fucking high class mansion in Long Island. Will pulled the papers on the house. The woman bought it herself." Emma was so impressed, she had even perused the photo of the place. With its extensive lawns and lovely white front décor along with a fountain, it was the kind of property that one highlights in a magazine. "She lives there all the time whilst he does business wherever else. Or at least that's what she said to me. And she wasn't lying."

"The superpower thing," he tapped his forehead and smiled. "Tell me, does she seem like the murderous type?"

"When pushed, any woman might flip out," the blonde decided to provide an answer without revealing anything else. And she surprised herself mildly, wondering why on earth defending a stranger could be so easily done. "I mean, she has it all together now."

Killian sipped his whiskey. "Having been a prisoner for most of her life. Regina, however, hasn't done anything that ties her to any of the murders…"

"Apart from Savory labelling her as The Queen of Hearts," Emma reminded him. "I saw her scrawl on the board under Regina's name. How on earth did she arrive at that conclusion?"

"Hmm, pinning the tail on the donkey," he joked, a sparkle in his eyes. Both of them chuckled. He helped himself to more whiskey. "I figure, that she jumps the gun in a manner of speaking without gathering enough evidence. You were there four years ago when we questioned the eyewitnesses outside The Dividers. They did mention a woman dressed in black, but she was quite older than Regina. Also, everyone on the streets have to be fully aware of Machavano's wife. No one thus far has called her name. Why is that?"

"Maybe because…they're scared shitless to do it?" Emma shrugged. She plucked a chicken strip from the plate and chewed on the edge thoughtfully. "How is it that the wife of a man behind the biggest and most dangerous cartel, could be so cut off from anything? I find it impossible to believe."

Killian, studied her face as his brows furrowed. "Weren't you the one who was on her side a few minutes ago?"

"I'm not on her side," Emma felt as if her defense was absolutely false. "I mean, sure her past wasn't nice. But I don't know what she's like now."

"You spent close to an hour with the woman, locked in a room. And you don't know what kind of powers she possess? Barely believable," he winked at her. "Your superpower must have revealed something."

A slight attraction, the blonde thought to herself. Slight and disturbing. To feel the kind of unnerving but satisfying pleasure that resulted from having her dominance stripped away; it wasn't something that Swan was going to reveal easily to her friend. Because what good would come out of that confession? A wide eyed stare. Questions about her sexuality which shouldn't be under scrutiny simply because she wasn't at all inclined towards women. Never had been. She had been in love with one man since a very young age and no one else. And since they had been separated, Emma never fully recovered enough to even date someone new.

"I'm off to the loo," he pushed himself up and lazily strolled away after flicking her ponytail.

The blonde settled back in her chair, legs parted and buried deep within her chest was a shard of doubt. An unsettling feeling that they were all focused on the wrong person since Machavano's death. It wasn't Regina. It couldn't be because it would be too obvious.

It was like searching for a needle in a haystack, only to discover no needle but a thousand colorful paperclips. And for some odd reason, the men involved in the drive by shootouts and drug trade weren't the ones they should even waste time on pounding into the ground. No. It wasn't one of them either. But it was someone who would surprise them.

Emma's phone disrupted her thoughts and she sprung up, walked towards the bar counter and answered Neal's call after just one ring. Asking her if Henry could spend the night by him wasn't strange these days. In fact, he had picked the kid up that afternoon to take him to the library. Henry was working on a science project and since she didn't have the time to build a circuit, Cassidy filled in without an excuse. Something Emma was thankful for. And now, she agreed to him sleeping over by his dad because her mind was in a whirlwind and being close to Neal was probably the best thing for the kid.

It wasn't until Swan returned to her seat when she found the folded note upon the table. It was tucked under her red leather jacket and written in a beautiful scrawl that appeared like a font. Frowning, Emma glanced around and noticed nobody focused in that direction enough to warrant suspicion. The door to the club didn't appear as if anyone had exited in a hurry. And not even the bartender seemed the least bit interested in her. Carefully unfolding the white sheet of paper, those green eyes scanned the words as she slipped into the seat. And then Swan's heart began to beat wildly when the writer's identity was obvious.

 _I've been watching you, my dear. From afar of course. But there are others watching your every move too. I just wanted you to know that the closer you manage to crawl towards me, the more I become terribly admirable of your passion. Just be careful, darling. Whilst I have no intention to ever harm you, there are other players on the board. I had no intentions of shooting you that night. I emptied the bullets. I wanted to see the kind of effect I had on a woman like yourself. Disappointment proved to be futile._

 _Until we meet again,_

 _R._

Emma, although rereading the letter for the fourth time, blindly reached for her glass and swallowed down some whiskey. Then careful not to reveal this sort of communication between herself and Regina, she quickly stuffed the paper into the pocket of her jeans. Wondering, what the hell was this suggested gift that was promised and when would they meet again. Maybe it was too much to ask for, or rather too ridiculous to assume, but the blonde really hoped that the two of them crossed paths again. Not solely for the purpose of kicking the brunette's ass. But also to guiltily cast her eyes upon those brown ones and the definitely appealing features belonging to a woman that had someone bewitched her. Not sexually of course. Never sexually. But from admiration. Her strength. Her painful past. The blossoming of a rose from between thorns.

Machavano's funeral rolled around the following week, of course, proving that there was indeed rest for the wicked.

By then, nothing had been revealed from the letter. No encounters and no confidence by showing the contents to anyone on Emma's part. Not when the brunette was ridiculously one of the suspects in what may be labelled as the murder of Machavano Perez. Because there was no better way to spend tax payers' money than by pounding down doors to question suspects on a drug lord's execution behind bars. And all of this was fueled by Savory's anger and ignorance in pursuing a cartel that would become more poisonous every time they stabbed the core.

If Emma could possibly explain it all in detail to a civilian, then the entire day would pass without a break for lunch or tea. But to simplify things; there would always be an equalizer between the police department and drug dealers in certain undercover agreements that would never reach the surface. Certain things like 'if you me alone, I'll take care of the bad guy the cops are looking for, or 'give me a block to manage and I'll make sure there are no shootings in the area'. Or even officers taking bribes from drug dealers to plant weapons on wanted criminals. All of it, Swan had experienced during her years as a cop; from rookie to lead investigator of the DIU. And under her nose, many of the dirty cops had to be fired and jailed. But those agreements still were organized by the Chief. Which was one of the reasons why Emma never favored him, sitting on a pedestal upstairs. He wanted the NYPD to appear like a shiny coin. And would do anything to preserve that reputation.

For what might have been a long time, the Red X Cartel existed in New York, living comfortable inside the fabric of society until four years ago when mayhem ensued. The equalizer had been tampered with and someone had shaken things up a bit. Afterwards, the minute they managed to pinpoint Machavano's whereabouts, he suddenly disappeared off the grid, signaling that he had been tipped off. But recently, Emma began to feel that someone was pulling strings to take the cartel down and it wasn't the police department. It was an inside man. What was his motive? She had a few; like greed or thirst for power.

Now here they were, spreading out to act as surveillance at Machavano's funeral. A task force of twenty police officers armed and ready, had their targets mapped out; Julio Perez; the brother of Machavano who was wanted for murder in 2006, Silvio Martinez; a famous drive by shooter who boasted about being part of the Red X Cartel, Mario Montano; who had been sitting on Machavano's right in the bar and had escaped, and Regina; for merely making the worst decision of her life by marrying the devil himself.

The flow of people dressed in black that flooded the cathedral was a remarkable scene to behold. Emma stood outside on the outskirts of the procession and those green eyes followed so many individuals mourning what seemed like the greatest loss in a century. Which was astonishing to her, based on what they were informed of from the man's character. In a nutshell, he was heartless and arrogant. And Swan wondered how in the world Regina had managed to marry someone like him.

There she was, however, with her stare sweeping across the surrounding area and weapon in the holster looking for four colorful paper clips in a flood of people. By the time the service began, with the midday sun beating down on them, Emma pressed her back onto a post within the yard and she let out a long sigh. Come what may, no drama was unfolding here but the expected wails and compliments on Perez being an angel among men. And she was about to call the day something that included no turn of events when the most remarkable thing happened.

It could have possibly been a scene from a horror movie as green eyes suddenly discovered a woman dressed in complete black, standing at the back of the cathedral just by the gardens, and even though her face was shrouded, there was no doubt that Emma was being scrutinized. Long and hard, the two of them stared at each other. Until the figure chose to slip out of view and then, the blonde broke away from the trance in pursuit. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Emma rounded the back of the church where vines climbed up the concrete and the wind whispered around a quiet backyard. And when green eyes met brown ones just by the latticework, Swan gasped.

"Hey you!" she dashed into the washroom after the brunette.

By then, Regina didn't plan to escape. The older woman merely stood there dressed in the most expensive looking long sleeved black dress made of lace and a black net lining inside. The neckline dipped downwards to reveal enough cleavage that captured the attention of the blonde. "Hello, Miss Swan," she provided as a greeting in that husky voice that drove the Emma crazy. "You're such a fan of mine, aren't you?"

"After what you did the last time we met," Swan was infuriated still, "I'm hardly a fan of yours, Regina."

"Forgive me for ruining that pretty face of yours," Regina said coyly, "but I had no choice. You would have never let me escape."

"Got that right," Emma nodded. "It's been over a week and I still feel like punching you in the face."

Making a show of planting one hand upon her right hip, the older woman smirked. "I never thought that you would show up at his funeral. The bastard fooled many people into believing that he was a saint."

"Actually the NYPD has the entire church under surveillance. For three men. You might know them," Emma provided without realizing how easy it was to divulge confidential information to the woman who was a suspect. "Julio Perez, Silvio Martinez and Mario Montano." The three bastards who were confident enough to play god.

Regina seemed to be scrutinizing her face to ascertain the concealed logics behind what had been said. Brown eyes widened. "Julio has done nothing. He is a good man," she stated in all confidence.

Emma actually scoffed and stared in disbelief at the brunette. "Yeah, did he pay his penance over the last four years after killing those men by The Dividers? What did he do? Go to church and baptize himself again to start a new life as an innocent man?"

"Very funny, you are, Miss Swan," Regina spared, although there wasn't a smile on her face. "Julio had nothing to do with those murders. He is my brother-in-law and the only one who I really care for. Because he is always kind to me. But he is neck deep in trafficking drugs. I will admit that to you."

The blonde detected no lies between those words. Both of them stared at each other for a few seconds until the brunette sighed and reached up to tuck a few strands of dark hair behind an ear. She smiled.

"Do you really think that you're going to worm your way out of this?" Emma dared to ask. "You're a wanted woman."

"Wrongfully accused," Regina provided in a softer tone. "I am no murderer."

Emma, however, had to laugh after that last line. "Really? After killing three men and maybe more before you were even eighteen years old, you're going to stand there and try to lie to me? I know what you did."

Obviously she had hit a sensitive nerve. There it was. The flash in those brown eyes and the curling of her fists. Regina suddenly tensed up, like a spring about to uncoil and with all the sincerity slipping away from her countenance, the older woman started to retreat to the door.

"Don't take another step," Emma pulled her gun out in one swift move and aimed the weapon at the brunette. Her heart was evidently trying to jump out of her chest. Yearning to escape just like the other woman.

Regina, on the other hand, turned around slowly. "You know nothing about me, Miss Swan. What I've done, I have no regrets. I was a troubled child placed in hell for too long. That kind of living is a mental constraint."

Feeling quite ashamed of herself for even harshly judging the older woman, Emma offered a sympathetic look. "I don't doubt that it was hard for you. I get that. But right now, I have to take you in for questioning. I can't let you go."

Standing just near a beautifully carved white sink within the washroom, the brunette provided the blonde with a smirk. "You might not be fully aware of this but let me tell you. Miss Swan, you are so beautiful. Your beauty from up close astounds me. And being in defense mode. As you are. I find it rather admirable."

Emma swallowed. She blinked a few times, feeling the words seep into her chest and tackle her heart. And she licked her lips. "Stop trying to butter me up, lady. I don't fall prey to words. You don't know me at all."

"I've seen enough," Regina purred, taking two slow steps towards the younger woman.

"Just…stop," Swan paced on the spot, whilst feeling threatened all at once that her space was being invaded. "Don't take another step or else…"

"Or else what?" the older woman asked, inclining her head a little with a smile, "you'll shoot me? Where? In my chest? Between my eyes? Do you really have that kind of courage right now to harm me when we're both aware of the kind of connection that has developed between us? Sparingly, I'll offer you nothing more than the truth. I am not an angel. But the first time I met you, I saw something in you that gave me hope again. I believe the worst in people initially. But with you, it was easy to understand that there can be so much good inside someone."

"Okay well I'm a good person, I wouldn't deny that," Swan nodded although maintaining her grip on the gun, "that's why I have to do my job and I have to take you in."

Regina, however, continued to close the distance between them, whilst Emma backed away in measured strides. This was ridiculous. To be so forthcoming in her desires. By the time she felt herself cornered against the tiled walls, the blonde's heart was about to explode. Because the older woman didn't retreat. Instead, she planted all those glorious curves contained in black lace merely half an inch away from Swan. Almost as if she was testing her. Trying to get a rise out of her.

It wouldn't suffice.

"What are you trying to do? Emma asked in a somewhat hoarser voice than usual. "Seduce me into letting you go? I'm warning you," the blonde produced, realizing that again, her control of the situation was being toyed with and it was evidently pleasing. Too pleasing to entertain a woman that desired nothing more than to strip every shred of dominance from someone like her. "Don't toy with me, Regina."

"I'm being truthful. Can you not spare me the chance to tell you how most ardently I admire you?"

Instantly, a flash of anger shot through Emma's body and she dangerously wrapped her fingers around the brunette's throat. But not harsh enough to choke the life out of the woman. Just enough to spin Regina around so that their roles were reversed with her back firmly pressed upon the wall. Now Emma was the one in full control whilst those brown eyes registered a look of utter shock and then…then Swan studied the change. The transgression from disbelief to a slow smirk that revealed a satisfied countenance. Something that warmed Emma's heart as she found the fighter buried within each of their souls. However, it wasn't a condescending behavior to be agreed upon. To sing high praises whilst remaining ignorant and stubborn. And now that she had her levelled with as much passion as directed, Emma found her feet firmly planted on going forward.

"Don't you dare try to woo me with words," the younger woman said through her teeth. Anger was drifting through like small waves lapping onto the shore. "Or by forcing yourself on me. I'm not weak and I really am not the type of woman who falls easily into a trap like that. The more you try to seduce me with those lines that remind me of some stupid romance novel, the more I will hate your guts. Because I'm a grown woman. Not a thirsty teenager waiting for someone to jump her."

What might have been a definite smirk, believing that she was fully pleased from the results, Regina instantly allowed herself to appear ashamed. And it wasn't something quite easy to be accomplished. Seeing the look wash over the face of a woman who had prized herself with composure in every situation thus far, was compelling on Emma's behalf. In fact, she was so surprised, her grip on the woman's throat slackened. And the two of them remained for a long time with their eyes locked.

It was so sudden though, how thin the line was between them. How they drifted towards each other almost easily. Like a small magnetic force between them, the two women found their faces moving dangerously close. Their chests heaved. Brown eyes was clouded with confusion as she considered Regina's parted lips. And breathing hard from the pounding inside her chest, the brunette dared to rest their foreheads together. Feeling what it was like to perhaps make the only successful physical connection between them that meant so much more than either anticipated.

Emma tasted the older woman's warm breath upon her parted lips and choked on the painful moment of bliss. Of not knowing what this was. But being fully aware that it was more than expected. And quickly, as if finally coming to her senses, the blonde stepped away. She swallowed hard and looked away as brown eyes searched for so much more meaning.

"I'm sorry," Regina croaked, that pained look on her beautiful face never dying away. "I completely misjudged your character."

"You did," Emma nodded quickly in agreement. "I'm not as weak as you think I am."

The brunette slipped out of Swan's personal space and slowly walked away whilst gingerly massaging where those fingers were moments ago wrapped around. "You're most certainly not. I must admit that I was guiltily trying to persuade you with words from my own formed poetry. But I was not in any way about to disrespect your character. Everything I've said about you is only the truth." Those mellow brown eyes turned to gaze at Emma once more. "I know that it is terribly difficult for a strong headed woman such as yourself to believe me. But you are beautiful. And you are exceptionally beautiful."

Swan dipped her head low without a reply. The air within the washroom, after being contained for a prolonged period, was not becoming unbearably hot. And she tugged at the collar of her shirt.

"I am bold," Regina half laughed, and she extended her arms to display sheer disbelief in herself. "I never spare the truth. I call it as it is. Now, if you're going to arrest me, then here you go," the brunette held out her hands and surrendered. "Handcuff me if you honestly believe that I am guilty. Tell me if after becoming informed of my past and our encounters, if you'd really label me as a woman who deserves to be incarcerated."

For a long, long time, Emma gazed into those brown eyes. And Regina gazed into green ones. The connection between them strengthened and lasted and it was unbearably unjust to discredit the honesty and purity discovered from their conversations with each other. By then, Swan was beginning to realize something about Regina that stunned her. The soft side, like the core of the toughest candy, when under pressure, the brunette allowed her weaker side to spill forth.

"I'll turn around to tuck my gun away," Emma said in a softer tone now, "and then I don't want to see you again. Run. If you can't find a way to make all the dust settle, then disappear. Go someplace else. Start over. Be good to yourself and live the life you want to live. Be free."

Those brown eyes filled with tears so suddenly, Swan's heart ached. "I will." Regina swallowed hard. "If that's what you want of me. And thank you, Miss Swan."

"For what?" Emma asked.

Regina's lips quivered. "For proving to me that the angel I dreamt would save me when I was a troubled little girl, turned out to be a police officer who wants nothing more but to let me go. I'll always be alone."

They locked eyes for a full minute, as if both of them were awaiting more words to be said between them. And when Emma turned around to do as promised, she literally felt as if her heart was being torn into two uneven halves. At first, a feeling as painful as that stunned her. Because she hadn't felt such a tormenting thing in her entire life. Not when Neal asked for a divorce. Not when she left home to live on her own in New York. Now, all there was, was an unsettling pain that warmly spread across her chest until tears burned her eyes. And for the first time in a long time, Swan believed that there was such a thing as love at first sight.

That when they collided in that club over a week ago, something happened. Something that was immediate and newfound. Something that lasted and was further ignited after exchanging words in the safe house. It wasn't the kind of connection that faded away. But it was the kind of bond that choked her into doubt. Now she wasn't sure about herself. She wasn't sure that letting Regina go was the best solution.

"Wait," Emma croaked, never wishing the older woman to feel alone, "I don't want you to…" but there was no one there. Regina, evidently, was long gone.

For two weeks afterwards, the department remained silent whilst digging into paperwork and evidence already gathered from enough sources. Just when things had heated up to boiling point, it appeared as if the ants had crawled back into their nests for the time being. The Bronx remained tense however, fearing the burst of action from a well devised plan already underway. But nothing happened for quite some time, and so, Emma managed to retire home early at nights to spend some quality hours with her kid.

They poured over homework together and he laughed at her struggling through math equations. It was like old times again. Popcorn and Netflix. Ruffling his hair as she tucked him into bed with a goodnight kiss. Then every morning, the two of them would walk the journey to school and work instead of using the car. It was so refreshing to focus on her son just enough so that the heartache could be muffled. And overtime, it did.

Sometimes though, late at nights when Emma was curled up in bed with a novel, she couldn't turn her mind away from Regina. Suddenly, the scent of jasmine invaded her room, perhaps drifting along with the cool wind through the window and then, she would be forced to digress. The feel of the brunette's neck beneath her grasp, and the pleading look in those brown eyes. Mellow brown eyes that became glossy from tears just after she had practically ordered the woman to leave her alone. To disappear off the grid.

They had almost kissed each other. She had become so sure of it. Because what else could that moment mean? Now, Regina was probably a million miles away and already over the feelings of an angel disappointing her.

Turning onto her side, green eyes gazed longingly at the opened window. The pink lace blinds fluttered softly. The wind was a delicate reminder of how gentle the world could be. Of how fragile life was and love.

Love.

Emma couldn't breathe all of a sudden. She felt as if her heart was struggling to keep its pace. And it was an ashamed reaction from remembering the truth that had blossomed over the past few days since they parted. The truth that gripped her in the mornings whilst she was preparing lunch for Henry. And her hand holding a tuna sandwich would hover of the lunch bag. Or when she was strolling home in all smiles from a comfortable day at work after harassing Savory, and another brunette crossed her path.

Their time spent together had fueled her with something so much more than she had ever experienced. Emma realized that she longed to become engaged in a conversation with Regina because of the kind of passion that swirled around the room. The fact that she would never be certain of where their words would lead or their actions. Or what kind of grand effect the older woman would manage to have on her. The uncertainty. It was thrilling, compared to how mundane and predictable Neal had become during the course of their marriage.

Just when her cellphone rang in the dark, the blonde felt herself begin to shiver from being shaken awake so suddenly.

"Lieutenant Swan," she gruffly answered, checking the clock on the vanity and realizing it was after midnight.

"Emma, there's been a shooting at a nest behind the old Craver's Fishing building and we managed to tackle one of the shooters," Killian said, sounding winded. Already, Emma was tearing off the blanket. "Four persons murdered, it looks like here. We're still assessing the scene. We need you here ASAP."

"Any identities of the victims?" she reached around blindly in the dark, trying to locate a bra.

Jones swore. "Don't go further than the tape! Bloody hell! It's chaos down here." Loud shouts ensued. "Three males and one female," he said.

Suddenly, the room contained a chill so fierce, Emma's knees weakened. "Is it her?" she hoarsely asked, as her heart stopped.

"Who, Regina?" he sighed, "nah."

"Thank god," the blonde muttered, sinking to the floor and onto the carpet. She had tugged on a red and black plaid shirt.

"What?" Killian sounded surprised.

"Nothing," Emma saved herself from discovery. "I'll be there in a few."

Three hours later, after basically pounding his head of curls onto the table in the interrogation room, Silvio Martinez finally cracked. But he didn't allow whatever information to be revealed as fast as desired. Glaring at Killian who was cracking his knuckles, and ready for another round, the famous drive by shooter stared Emma straight in her eyes and grinned.

"You want to know who called their numbers?" he asked as blood dripped from his split lip. "Who said the four birds can't sing no more?"

"Finally he understands the question," Emma threw her hands up in frustration and scoffed. Then she slammed them down onto the table and glared at him. "Give us a name or this can continue for as long as we want it to. And believe me, my buddy here isn't the type to become easily tired."

Silvio's eyes flicked to Jones and he licked his lips then winced from the pain. "The Queen of Hearts," he said, disgruntled. "She gave the orders. She calls the shot since Machavano sailed into hell solo."

"Give us a name," Emma's eyes burned as she refused to believe the information provided.

When Silvio merely grinned like a lunatic, the blonde strode forward and grabbed his throat. The malice in her eyes stunned Killian.

"Mills," Martinez choked. "It was Mills. The lady boss."

"Swan," Jones said in a gentle tone.

But he didn't have to pull her away from pounding the man who would be swept into prison for many years to come. Instead, Emma stared at Silvio as if she was confronted with an apparition. As cold sweat covered her body. And the room grew cold, so cold, even though the A.C unit had been switched off an hour or more ago. Now, in the wake of that prolonged interrogation, Machavano's photo was peeled away from the board and a blown up photo of Regina was tacked into the top box.

Even with the facts laid out before her, the blaring truth was difficult to digest. So Emma locked herself in a washroom stall and literally felt the anguish and tears welling up from being cornered. From feeling like an asshole. A deliberate idiot who wanted to place all her belief in one woman. All because of what? A frivolous few moments that led her to question the meaning of love? Her superpower, something that always was reliable, had now reduced her into doubt and confusion. And pain. And as Swan lowered herself onto the toilet, she buried her face into shaking hands and sobbed.

Of all the times to feel like a jackass, this was possibly the worst moment of them all. Knowing fully well how stupid the situation would sound like if she even dared to elaborate to anyone else, especially Killian. That she had what? Found herself developing feelings for a deceitful liar? A criminal who by then, had forgotten every single ounce of their encounters and was probably making a laughingstock out of their shared words.

When Killian found her, momentarily he studied his friend's face and frowned deeply. "Swan…"

But she wouldn't divulge anything to him, after feeling so ridiculously used. "It's nothing."

"Talk to me," he said softly, tugging on her arm.

"Nah," she forced herself to laugh and quickly wiped away the tears on her cheeks. "Not today. Any updates?"

"Well," he proceeded with a cautious tone, as they made their way down the corridor littered with bulletins and WANTED posters, "the Chief just issued a reward for civilians to find Regina. We've got all units sweeping the area for her. She'll be found in no time unless she's fled the country."

"I'm on break." Emma diverted and headed out a side door, leading into an alleyway.

Killian watched her leave in disbelief and after debating on whether to follow or not, he clenched his fists and complied with the former thought. When he did discover the blonde, she was seated upon a stone bench in the NYPD's yard with her legs spread apart. The sun was slowly crawling upwards and into the blue sky. And the air was cool enough to offer a refreshing feeling. But to Emma, there was so much pain on her face, she couldn't conceal anything as Jones sat next to her.

For a few seconds, nothing was uttered between them. The last time he had glimpsed that broken part of his best friend was after the divorce. Neal had left her without a penny and explanation. He swept himself off to Pennsylvania and left Henry with all his questions directed at a mother who was as confused and hurt as he was. Now, the magnitude of hurt on Swan's face was by far, extending over that line he had witnessed before.

"I don't want to talk about it," Emma said hoarsely, as she struggled to keep the tears at bay. "I know you'll think I'm an ass. But I've done the stupidest thing ever."

"We all do stupid things," Jones said. He nudged her playfully. "My record scores way above yours. Remember when I told Annie I was once a Rock Star in a band in England?"

She inhaled deeply without smiling. "You have no idea where I am right now. It's shit."

"Try to tell me a little more," Killian urged in a gentle tone. "I promise I wouldn't judge you. You're fully aware how open minded I am. You're the only one who knows most of me apart from Annie and over the years, you and I, we've been revealing ourselves to each other. Even the hurtful parts. I don't see why I'd ever judge you when you've never judged me."

Emma sighed. Burying her face into shaky hands, she shook her head slowly. "Killian, she got to me," Emma croaked. People passed by them, with sleepy eyes. And still he allowed her enough room to continue. "She…slipped through the cracks and she buried herself inside my chest. And I feel like I've been poisoned. Like I'm beginning to die slowly and it hurts because I thought I knew who I was. I thought I knew what I wanted. I was going about my life solo and miserable at it."

"People can do that to us," he said in a reassuring tone. "That's why people come into our lives. To bring out the best or the worst in us. It's Regina, isn't it?"

When she scrubbed those green eyes with the heel of her palms after nodding, he sighed.

"I suspected as much. You actually confirmed it this morning when I told you one of the victims was a female. And you asked me if it happened to be Regina. I heard the relief in your voice when I said it wasn't her," Killian took her left hand and began to massage the blonde's palm, which was soft to the touch and wet from tears. "The first time I suspected something was when you were describing her to me in the car that night when we arrested Machavano. And there was this look in your eyes. I wouldn't label it as admiration. I later was convinced that it could be love."

"I'm so stupid," Emma groaned, leaning into him.

"No you're not," he wrapped an arm snugly around her as people passed by them on their way to work or out for their morning jogs. "You have the purest heart. You're so logical about everything. I've seen how you've suffered through dating men since Neal left you and not once did one of them manage to sweep you off your feet. Now, here you are, obviously head over heels in love with our most wanted criminal and I can't judge you for that. All I'm going to advice, is for you to be very careful."

"Thank you for not judging me," Emma sniffed and felt her heart warm a little. "I'm being careful. This will pass and I'll be over it in no time."

"It somewhat relieves me that you have no intention of pursuing her," he admitted. "The two of you are from such different worlds. I don't think that you'll even be able to exist in hers. Think about Henry also. Would you like to expose him to a woman who has obviously killed in cold blood and who has dabbled in a harsh life for far too long? She might not even be able to console a child. If she has you feeling so terribly broken, then just imagine what else lies in store if this happens to be."

All of what he was divulging had truth in substance. She never once prolonged the belief of ever becoming something meaningful with Regina. No. Her mind was busy fighting her heart over logics and reasoning this one out. Trying to understand how on earth these feelings had developed in the first place.

Emma couldn't take the day off to immerse herself in a tub of ice cream and hardcore crime movies though. Lots of work had to be done, as civilians came crashing into the station to report all kinds of false sightings. Even the phone lines never stayed settled. Everyone lunged for that reward. Everyone including the uniforms who savagely pounded the streets and corners, on the lookout for Regina.

A week passed by with no news and still everyone was leaping around town, hoping to cast their eyes on The Queen of Hearts. But to no avail. It just so happened that Sunday rolled around with Andy and Henry being entertained by Finding Dory in Killian's living room. Annie and her husband sat around the dining table along with Emma engaging in light conversation throughout the evening. And by then, the blonde was beginning to wonder how long the dull ache from her heart would subdue.

Killian's wife was a beautiful red head who worked as a receptionist at a dentist's office a few corners away. After meeting each other so many times, Emma was now being teased about always forgetting Annie's favorite color that happened to be the softest shade of yellow. And now, all of them chuckled among themselves like the good old days until Emma's phone began to chirp. After she had taken the call, those green eyes fixated upon Killian. Her countenance remained stolid.

"Bloody hell, what is it?" he asked impatiently.

"They've got her," Emma managed to form words although being entirely breathless as her heart raced. "She's in the precinct. Ready for interrogation."

Jones mirrored her dazed look. And then, blindly the blonde reached for her jacket. "I'll drive," Killian said on their way out after pressing a quick kiss onto his wife's frightened face.

 **Review for more!**


	3. Chapter 3

For obvious reasons, the drive to the precinct was a nerve wrecking one because it was definite that certain wounds never could heal completely.

Emma frightfully discovered that after long and difficult days of trying to bury those doubtful and unpleasant feelings about Regina, the memories and everything began to slowly drift to the surface. Just when she had tossed the dead weight overboard into murky waters, the dark mass was rising to the top of the choppy waves. Rising with vengeance and the kind of power to flatten her, as she sat in silence whilst Jones drove through the night.

By the time they located the interrogation room the brunette had been placed in, Swan's throat was parched enough. So delivering the verdict that he would initiate the round of questions upon Regina, Jones rounded the corner and Emma went shakily to the water cooler.

It wasn't fair, was it? To sink so deep into a dark pit of fears, only to clamber up and now with dirt in your nails, someone was ready to push you down into the darkness again. That's how she felt. Honestly nervous and unsure of herself. And the worst part of it all was that she believed that she had gotten her shit together. She believed that things had moved into a happier place. That if they ever met again, nothing would unsettle her. Now, as Emma approached the door leading into the room behind the interrogation room's glass, she took a generous sip of cold water and then proceeded to finally face her fears. Somewhat. Because there was a thick glass between them. A glass that provided no opportunity for the brunette to cast those mellow brown eyes upon her.

"…suppose you voluntarily gave yourself up then?" Killian had seated himself comfortably across from…

Regina.

For the first time in her life, after twenty eight goddamn years, Emma realized the magnitude of torment that the heart could put someone through. The agony of feeling that amazing muscle with a mind of its own, beating away inside her chest as if it was running a sprint into the next era. As if the glass between them would shatter from the weight of her incredible admiration and depth of shame from their last meeting. She felt so terrible, knowing that there had been something hanging in the air between them, and something that needed to be said by her. And she hadn't responded in the right way.

"I…was assaulted by your department," Regina was explaining in a hoarse voice that wounded the blonde's heart. The pain in those brown eyes displayed so much difficulty in prolonging her composure. "I was literally dragged into that stinking patrol car and then handcuffed. I was not read my rights."

She appeared very sophisticated in a long sleeved red shirt made of the finest looking satin, buttoned down the front with a collared neckline. On each cuff, a brass button glinted from the fluorescent light above where she was seated. Evidently there was a pair of black tailored pants to perfect the outfit further. There were bags under her eyes. Her stare onto Killian was strained, almost as if she was trying so hard to focus on the situation at hand. Fatigued, maybe. But also pissed off from the looks of it, as Jones almost had his head bitten off from proceeding with more questions about her whereabouts.

"I remained right here in New York, in a safe place since you bastards stormed my mansion in Long Island. For goodness sakes, is it a supposed weakness with you cops that you must break something whilst rummaging around in someone's private home?" She glared at him with her fists clenched upon the table. The silver handcuffs appeared terribly out of place on those beautiful wrists.

"Compensation, of course for whatever was broken must have a thorough investigation conducted before…"

"Fuck your investigation!" Regina slammed her fists onto the table. The Queen Elizabeth coffee cup jumped up in fright. "Where is Miss Swan? Is she here?" Brown eyes all at once, settled on the glass and even though it was highly impossible for the brunette to pinpoint Emma's location, she just so happened to lock a stare onto green orbs.

Immediately, Swan stepped back and allowed a small gasp to escape through parted lips. Sorcery at best. This was evidently the part where reality stopped and good old fashioned hallucinations began.

"Lieutenant Swan," Killian began in a bored tone, "is currently unavailable. Now let's continue. Machavano. Did you plan his execution?"

"Hardly," Regina suddenly appeared fully awake, as if every sense of colour and noise had been glorified, "I'd like to see Miss Swan. Until then, I'll be answering no further questions."

"I thought that you'd ask to speak to your lawyer," Jones stared. His fingers lightly drummed upon the table and only the blonde understood that it was a definite sign of being anxious. Most likely, anxious about the two women clashing in an interrogation room. "Would you like to ring him?"

"He's on his way. Get Miss Swan to me. I'll tell her everything there is in the definition of the truth. Until then," Regina lowered herself onto the table's surface and reached a little closer to Killian. Her smile was poisonous. "Leave, Officer Jones. Your handsome face does nothing for me."

Swallowing hard, and feeling quite infuriated from her inability to crack under the current questions, he separated himself from the chair. Then standing back just a little and offering a grim look, Killian folded his arms.

The woman was incredibly composed although falling apart from some kind of inner demon. He had sensed the fragility of her aura upon entering the room. The slight uneasiness that was shadowed from her belief in putting on a professional demeanor like a safety suit. Clad in what may be labelled as office attire, Regina seemed like any ordinary woman in the world of work. Not the kind to be found in a safe house on the outskirts of the Bronx, munching on pretzels and sipping coffee.

But now, this perhaps posed the toughest challenge. Should he introduce Emma into the already conflicting setting? Based on his knowledge on their relationship, Jones detested the idea. He had understood the blonde's doubts and pain arising from finding herself in such a sticky situation as this one. Where her heart was captured by the looks and likeness of a mafia widow.

"You're nothing but a criminal now, Mills," he suddenly found himself saying in a distasteful manner. "You've been arrested for murder. Also acting as an accomplice…"

Regina's eyes flashed as she rose up. "Listen to me, you disrespectful…"

"Sit down," he ordered in a cold tone that was directed at the brunette like a splash of water. "And start talking or else I'll bloody lock you up until the FBI gets here. And I wouldn't dare digress by elaborating on their kind of interrogation tactics. Your pretty face might not be admirable after fifteen minutes with their lot. So weigh your options."

Silence still. The low hum of the A.C began to drive him crazy as the two of them entertained a stare off contest. It was almost as if she just enjoyed tormenting his existence in the room, so much, that Regina diverted her eyes elsewhere eventually.

"Suit yourself," Killian threw at her. He strode to the door and reached for the knob.

"You wouldn't even spare me a drink of water?" she asked from behind. Her tone suggested mockery. "Didn't your mother raise a man to respect a lady?"

Emma literally witnessed the volcano within Killian erupting. The lava spilled over as he angrily pulled open the door and disappeared from view. He was, in all fairness, a respectable man. One that considered the pounding down of criminals as part of his job duties and not an ability to be dragged out of the precinct. On Sundays, Jones liked some good old fashioned tea and butter biscuits accompanied by a black and white movie on TCM. And that volcano within him was seldom triggered.

Until now

He practically exploded into the room where Swan stood with her arms folded. Tumbling into her presence, Jones pulled a chair over and he sank onto it like a sack of potatoes. And then, only then did he breathe out a sigh of relief.

"She's really complicated," Emma said with a shrug. Leaning a hip onto the wall, the blonde smiled. "Don't beat yourself up about it. I'll handle it."

"What?" He stared at her as if a demon had spoken in another language. "Don't be bloody mad. That is not a wise option."

"It's the only option," Swan provided him with the truth, although in a softer tone. "You heard her. She wouldn't talk to anyone else but me. And we both know there is no FBI factor in this one. They never wanted to be anywhere near the Red X Cartel over the past four years or more. And to be honest, I've never seen any of them in the Bronx for more than an hour. So this is all ours, I'm afraid."

"That's _hardly_ the point," he wiped his face with the heel of a hand and rose up. Killian was still offering her a bewildered look. "I've seen what she has done to you. She pulled you into an illusion. You shouldn't be anywhere near this one, Emma."

"But I am," Swan admitted although with regret. "You're the only one who knows about my…feelings…for her. If any of this can be considered feelings at all." Bowing her head, she considered the floor. "And I can't run to the Chief with this. I can't tell anyone else. All I have to do, is try my best to do the job that I'm supposed to do."

"You can't just walk in there and separate your personal feelings from all of this," he pointed out. "You're going to have to pound her like any other suspect we've had in that room. Not like what we did to Silvio, of course." He regrettably nodded. "But enough to crack her."

"I have my superpower, remember?" she offered him a forced smile. "I can use that."

"Look how much good that brought you until the point of you realizing that she's The Queen of Hearts. The one who calls the shots. She kept all of that from you. She has fooled you into believing that she's the victim when she turns civilians into victims." He went to the water cooler and pressed down on the lever. Cold water gushed out into a plastic cup.

"I have no choice,' Killian," Emma was frustrated already from him hammering her with the truth. "It's just you and me right now. You're my lead cop in this one. I don't want Savory to get in there. She's going to slap the charges onto Regina without further questions. I just want to listen to what she has to say. That's all."

"Well evidently she's waiting on you to do exactly that," he gestured through the glass where the brunette had buried her face into folded hands upon the table. "It appears as if she's dehydrated," he said sardonically. "Take a cup of water in with you."

Emma stared at him. "Are you mad at me?"

"Here," he handed her a new plastic cup filled to the brim with cool water. Jones avoided eye contact. "And whilst you're in there, think of Henry in all of this if you ever end up entertaining _her_ as your lover."

"Wow," she stood there in disbelief at his blatant choice to hammer her with the truth. "Where did that come from? Lovers? I'm still at the point where I can't understand any of this. Of how I feel about her," her voice was cracking up. "All I know is that she got to me because of what she's been through. We've both had troubled childhoods where we both ended up holding a gun in our hands."

"Agreed, but when she chose to shoot three bloody people, you didn't shoot him." His eyes were darker now.

"Killian, she was a prisoner. A teenage prostitute in a freaking brothel in Mexico," Emma couldn't believe his refusal to see the facts at hand. "She was probably handcuffed to a bed every single hour of her life and drugged until she was living in another world. If I was in her situation and I had that damn gun, and the guy who put me in there was standing right in front of me," tears dripped down her cheek, "I would have shot him."

"Great," Killian nodded but his face still registered no form of persuasion into trusting Regina. "And would you have married a man like Machavano?"

"We have no idea what happened!" Emma cried in frustration.

"Are you listening to yourself?" Jones was staring at her. "You're returning back to level one here. After going through days of getting over this rough patch with her. You're arriving at the same bloody place."

"Leave me alone, man." She was already clearly upset. And without sparing him another word, the blonde took long strides towards the door.

He watched her retreat and sparingly considered the possibility, just for a moment, of Regina using every opportunity she had available, to corrupt the police department. Then if that was the case, what other delightful way there was than to get into Emma's pants? Since the brunette had already screwed with Swan's mind then why not seal the deal with a blasted kiss? And if this was the resulting path that would lead them to destruction, then he would prefer some other cop taking the fall apart from his best friend.

But Emma, evidently, was stubborn on this one. She believed that the older woman had some kind of fairytale goodness buried within her shell. That tough shell that was quite so difficult to crack. Emma wanted to snuggle up in there and get all cozy with a criminal who was already wanted on several charges.

 _You have no reasonable proof that she committed any of those murders though._

He scowled at the water cooler and then fixated his eyes upon Emma.

She entered the room with a trembling heart and nerves on edge. It was always this way between them. The uncertainty. Of not knowing where the hell this would lead. Therefore, all eye contact was avoided with Regina, even after placing the two cups of water upon the table. Emma neatly slid the clipboard containing empty pages and a yellow folder upon the surface also. Within the folder was an abundance of information about the older woman, ranging from time spent in Mexico to the most recent killings in the Bronx.

"Thank you," Regina said in a tone so soft, one that wasn't used on Killian before. "For the water. My throat is parched."

"Welcome," Emma sat in the opposite chair. Hair tied up into a high ponytail, she appeared weary as blonde tendrils had escaped to settle behind her ears. "You said you wanted to talk to me. So let's talk."

Silence.

She could literally feel that deep gaze trying to penetrate her bubble and hated the woman for having that kind of power over the situation. Had this been any old usual criminal, they wouldn't be able to shake her stamina. Let alone, have so much weight attached to every word drifting out of their mouths. Now, here they sat in front of each other, bombarded with past memories that most painfully narrowed down to a kiss that had almost happened. And Killian had no idea about that part.

"How are you?" Regina downed the water in one long swallow and carefully settled the cup onto the table again. "You look a bit pasty, Miss Swan. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Emma settled on acknowledging the chunk of dark hair that rested upon the older woman's forehead. "You're aware of why you're here, Mrs. Perez."

"Miss…Mills," Regina's tone suddenly turned so sharp, the blonde felt as if she was cut from a shard of glass. "And it's Regina in your case. Don't ever refer to me by my last name. We are way past that kind of formality."

"I'm sorry. Regina," Emma settled on a low tone that wouldn't reveal any kind of cracks within her demeanor. "You're here because we believe that you ordered a hit on your dead husband. And you're also responsible for some of the murders that the Red X Cartel orchestrated. By your hands no doubt. You really find this funny?" The blonde stared directly at the other woman who was chuckling to herself in disbelief.

"Are you actually listening to yourself right now, Miss Swan?" Regina's handcuffed wrists lifted a little from the table as she considered them. "I am here because your department has substantial evidence that proves that I'm responsible? That those charges fit me snugly?"

"Where were you on the night of July 5th?" Swan asked blandly.

The brunette stared at her. "I… was… in a bar in Los Angeles," Regina said in that hoarse voice whilst their eyes locked. "Trying to drink away the pain from falling in love with someone and then being asked to disappear out of their life."

Emma's heart stopped because for the first time since their brief collisions, the older woman finally confessed how she truly felt about her. It was a prolonged silence that was entirely filled with such depth in their looks cast upon each other that words were difficult to come by. Words couldn't explain how the blonde considered that honest confession. Because it was the truth and nothing but the truth. Superpower or not, those brown eyes registered nothing but sincerity and it was only then that Emma actually moved that giant wall between them. Just a little. But it was enough for the brunette to glimpse the mutual connection between them.

"Emma," Regina whispered, dipping her head a little as if to conceal everything from whoever was behind the glass. "Tell me. Has anything changed?"

"Um," the blonde bit her lips after realizing that nervousness was kicking in. Quickly opening the folder, she carefully pulled out a few pages. "Four persons were murdered on July 5th behind Craver's Fisheries." Emma laid out the four photos; three men and one woman between them slowly. "Do you recognize any of them?"

Immediately, Regina pressed trembling fingers onto her face that registered shock. "Yes." She weakly pointed at the female; a beautiful slender blonde woman with the bluest eyes. "Mallie Vincent. Dios mio! Esta es ridículo."

The blonde considered the brunette's face and sympathized. She sighed. "Can you tell me who she is?"

A tear trailed down Regina's left cheek and she flicked it away whilst avoiding eye contact. "She was…" staring at the wall with such severity, the older woman sniffed, "…the equivalent of a mistress to me in my loveless marriage to Machete. That's what we all refer to Machavano as, by the way." Her sincerity in digressing just to explain that small detail softened Emma's heart.

"I am so sorry for your loss," Swan considered the brunette's tears and dug into the breast pocket of her uniform for a clean folded tissue. She offered it across the table. "How long were the two of you together? If you think that I'm prying too much then don't answer that."

"Thank you," Regina gestured at the tissue and dabbed carefully at her cheeks. Their eyes connected. "I met her en el burdel…Forgive me," the brunette shook away the old habit of hers to return to Spanish when in a nervous state. "The brothel. In Mexico. She was one of the girls who was trapped as I had been. After I…" Regina flicked her eyes onto the table to display a careful avoidance from the truth, "...killed them, I helped her escape along with me. We never parted ways since then. And even though we ended our affair five years ago, we still remained as friends."

Silence fell between them. She wanted to ask her so many questions. Emma wanted to stray her fingers across the table and over those photos just far enough to enfold Regina's trembling hands into her. But Killian was obviously behind the glass. He would be breathing down her neck in a few seconds if that ever happened. And trying as hard as she could to maintain her composure, the blonde sucked in air through teeth and decided to proceed nevertheless.

"And the three men?" Green eyes rested on the blonde woman's photo. Mallie. A lover. Was that a small pang of jealousy within her heart? "Do you know them?"

"Peter." Regina rested a finger onto the first man's face. He was black and handsome with dreadlocks. "A drug dealer. This one," she said pointing at the other, "is Vasquez the owner of The Dividers."

"Wait a minute," Emma stared at the brunette in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "And the other one was Mallie's new boy toy. She played with him like a puppy. Spoiled him rotten. This, Miss Swan, is a direct hit to send me a message."

Confusion settled in of course. Swan with her arms folded, leaned a little closer but it just wasn't enough to erase the three feet between them. "Tell me more. Like what kind of message and who is this…someone who's calling the shots."

"Well for starters, the NYPD isn't the only entity that I'm hiding from. Someone wants me dead far more than all of you…"

"I don't want you dead," Emma felt her throat tighten as she delivered the truth in a softer tone. The two of them considered each other. "I just want you to talk to me right now. I hope that telling me the truth isn't that hard. Because I'm not the enemy here."

Regina's countenance strained as she fought an inner battle to perhaps refrain from elaborating on something else. Her eyes flicked to the glass behind them, which signaled that she shared the blonde's aches of wanting to ask so many questions but not under watchful eyes.

It was so tormenting to sit across from the older woman and still maintain her professionalism. For all Swan knew, the Chief or Savory could be watching from either behind the damn glass or from the camera positioned above. And Savory would want nothing better than to harass Emma because of her inability to perform her job.

"Give me a name, Regina," Emma said in a gentle tone. "Who wants you dead?"

"I didn't orchestrate the hit on Machete," the brunette pleaded with her eyes. "You must believe me. And I was not responsible for any murders. The only three crimes I have ever committed are within your knowledge. And I was a child who was abused into believing that I was worth nothing except for sex and drugs. Since I came to this country, I have paid my penance, Miss Swan, by being thrown into a penitentiary at the time for young women who were immigrants and delinquents."

This wasn't in the files. Strange. The blonde's interest was pique. "So wait, I know that they were looking for you in Mexico. Did the cops find you and throw you into this…place?"

"No. After I changed my maiden name, and I chopped off my hair, no one could identify me. When Mallie and I escaped the brothel at the age of sixteen, we stayed for four years in Mexico in the house of a woman who trusted us and wanted to help. Bless her soul," Regina smiled a little whilst reminiscing. "Then, we were given a chance to smuggle drugs into America…"

"Regina…" Emma was clearly disappointed as she shook her head.

"I know. It was a bad decision. But at the time, you must understand that we wanted to escape the lives we had in Mexico. Men were all over sweeping the cities for young girls who could be used in the sex trade. So we did whatever we could to get across the border legally and with documents."

"And lemme guess," the blonde offered a smug look, "you were caught with the drugs."

"Yes."

"Regina," Emma again tried to fish. "Give me a name. Who's behind all of this? Come on. You have to help me out here. Right now, you're the main suspect. To take the heat off yourself, I want you to give me more."

"Machete set me up, okay?" Suddenly, the older woman was burying her face inside trembling hands again. Then running her fingers through glossy black hair, she sent the blonde a fatigued look. "He was fully aware that the NYPD had him surrounded. So he sent me to the washroom to conceal myself, hoping that I would escape. He wanted to be caught."

"Fucking hell," Emma sat back and stared at her as something clicked into place. "He wanted you to break him out of the lock ups."

"He wanted me to steal your keys or anything that would aid in his escape. But of course, I wasn't going to do anything like that," Regina inhaled deeply and she licked her lips. "I wanted him locked up for a long time. And would have rather died than to hear of him walking the streets again. Naturally, someone wanted him dead more than I did."

"The same person who wants you dead," Swan said directly. "The one you refuse to give me the name of. Are you the Queen of Hearts, Regina?"

The brunette actually chuckled a little after that question. She shook her head.

"Is the Queen of Hearts behind all of this?"

Regina nodded once. But refused to make eye contact. Emma, was forced to jot that down for future reference. Of course, it was a major detail she wouldn't forget.

"That call I made from your mobile that night," brown eyes rested on green ones, "it wasn't to my brother. I have no brother. I called Mallie to find out if she was safe. We were all aware that something was going to happen. So naturally, I concealed her well from all of this. I cannot give you a name, Miss Swan. You simply have to figure this one out all by yourself. If I give you a name, I will face the same fate as Machete. Someone will worm their way in here and execute me. Do you want that?"

"No," Emma said in a shaky voice. She blinked slowly and swallowed hard. "You know that I don't want that. Fuck."

Regina offered a warm smile. "Will we ever have another chance?" the brunette asked in a soft voice, so soft, she was barely audible. "Just you and me? I want to say so much more to you. Every second that denies me of you is so painful."

Emma slowly shook her head and sent a definite warning look. "Don't," she mouthed. "We can't do this."

"I can't live like this," Regina mouthed as those brown eyes clouded with tears. "Forgive me."

Feeling as if her chest would explode and hot tears were threatening to spring forth, the blonde rose up from the chair. She collected the folder without making further eye contact. And it pained her so much to act like the cop, even though every single heartbeat was for the woman who remained seated whilst shielding her eyes. Was she crying? Emma wasn't sure. But god, how it broke her. It was like having someone thrust a knife into your gut and as they twisted it around, the blinding pain was so unbearable, you felt so cold within the pits of hell.

Love wasn't supposed to be like this.

But then her parents always told her that love wasn't ever supposed to be easy either. If it was easy, then it was superficial. When you literally had to fight for someone until your heart was splitting down the middle, then the bitter sweet aftermath was worth it. And it wasn't a situation where her feelings weren't mutual. Regina really and truly loved her back. She could decipher the depth of the brunette's love within her brown eyes and from the struggling attempts made to appear composed.

Emma felt as if she had left a good chunk of her heart inside the interrogation room when she left. Then, instead of joining Killian on the other side, she turned the other way and headed into her office. Sinking into the chair, the blonde hastily ran her fingers over her face and swore. Kicking the edge of the desk, she finally allowed the hot tears to fall from her eyes. And then, only then did Emma begin to cry. Not because she was disappointed with love. But because it was unfair to fall in love with a woman who was hated and charged with murder.

She was working for the NYPD; an institution that she had loved working for. She used to dream about catching the bad guys. Locking them up in order to save the world as if she was her own superhero. No one never told her that some of the bad guys weren't that bad after all. When she was a kid, there were just two options; good or evil. And now, the one woman she loved with all her heart. The one woman she had tried so hard to get over and failed within five minutes to remain composed. Was the bad guy.

And she was now the cop.

What would Henry think about this? He'd probably tell her to follow her heart. To be happy. A kid. Her kid. Could give the best advice ever on so many occasions. And sitting there at her desk, she could literally hear his innocent demands that she must try her best to save Regina. Because Regina wasn't guilty. Goddammit, she wasn't. Regina was the most beautiful, broken soul Emma had ever met.

Killian suddenly pushed the door and arrived with a box within his arms. "After you went in there, I ran across the street to grab us some donuts. The chocolate ones," he produced the box and flipped it open. "I know you like those. I got myself the strawberry ones."

Plainly, she stared at him. "So you weren't there the whole time I was talking to her?"

"Nah," he settled himself into a chair and smiled. "I decided to give you two some quality time together. Well apart from the camera in the room. You did remember the camera, didn't you?" Killian's eyes widened.

"Of course I did," Emma was still stunned. Clearly this wasn't the best day and the worst day ever.

"How did it go?" dipping the donut into his mouth, Jones bit off a piece and chewed slowly. "Managed to clear her name?"

"Actually she did in so many ways," Emma confessed in a weary tone. Eyes downcast, the blonde considered her chocolate donut and realized that she had no appetite.

"So why do you sound so terribly disappointed?" Jones, frowning, leaned forward in his chair.

"She didn't give me a damn name. She said that someone else is pulling the strings. But she refused to give me a name because of facing the same fate as Machavano did whilst he was in the lock ups here."

"Dammit," his eyes were bulging. "So we have another lunatic out there. I know this might sound rather painful, but apart from the case, did you manage to settle the score between the two of you?"

The blonde shook her head and offered up a saddened expression. "She told me she's in love with me. She said she can't live like this anymore. But I really don't know how she's going to get out of this one. She has no one to back up her defense. I'm afraid that so far, she's flying solo. Why are you looking at me like that?"

A warm smile rested upon his face. Jones sighed. "Because when you just told me that she confessed her love for you, your cheeks obtained a full flush. And your voice just…trembled a little. Which I can only guess that after all this time, you're still in love with her. And might I add," he held up a finger to silence Emma as she began to object, "not once have you used her name since. The power her name has over you is admirable."

Suddenly the door was shoved open and in strode Savory like a bull ready for a fight. Squaring her shoulders, she moved aside to welcome the Chief into the space, with a look on his face that suggested anything but pleasure in leaving the office upstairs to venture into Swan's.

"You're a piece of work," Savory managed to introduce the conversation in a clipped tone as she stared at Emma. "How did it go with your girlfriend in there? Are you two planning a date after she clears her name? Poor Emma Swan…"

The blonde had already sprung up for her desk, fists clenched and ready to argue. However, the Chief settled the score. "Savory, cease with your hormonal burst of anger. This is hardly the time for that kind of display of antics. Lieutenant Swan." He seemed bored all at once.

"Chief Danes," Emma nodded, and flicked a glare at Savory.

"We were privy to the video feed during your interrogation with Mrs. Perez. I must say that your attempt to squeeze information from her based on persuasion was impressive. She managed to give us as much as we need at this point to follow a new lead."

"Chief, she gave us more reason to suspect she's behind this more than ever!" Savory stared at him incredulously. "Putting the blame on someone else? Her refusal to give us a name is more than enough to prove that there's no one else but her stupid ass that should get the death penalty."

"Quiet down, Savory," Danes lifted his hand. The dark blue suit he had fitted himself into was bulging at the seams. "I'd like you to leave the office whilst I further my conversation with both Officer Jones and Lieutenant Swan."

Huffing out a sigh, the busty woman shifted past him and exited the space. When she was gone, the air felt clearer. And yet, Emma already was fully aware of his intentions. This wouldn't settle well at all.

"We followed the interrogation until the end," Danes continued whilst resting a cool gaze upon Emma. "And I must ask you two questions that you should answer truthfully if you'd like to keep your job as Lieutenant. Demoting a highly skilled woman such as yourself is not my cup of tea. At the end of the day, I'd like you to lead this department with all that you have in you. However…"

Killian's chest heaved as he diverted his stare onto the small bookcase in Emma's office.

"Is it true that you are sexually attracted to Mrs. Perez?" Dane asked.

"Boss," Killian pleaded. "Come on. Don't you feel that that's a bit too much at this point?"

"I'm only asking a fair question, Officer Jones," Dane said coolly. His skill at remaining composed in any situation was highly admirable. "I'd like Swan to answer me truthfully. I will not judge her in any way because of her preference."

"But you're asking her something that is personal and unjust and it is an uncomfortable topic, for anyone, I'd imagine!" Jones pointed out as Emma bit her lips and avoided eye contact.

"No," the blonde interjected. "It's alright. To be honest, I have nothing to hide because it's obvious now that you studied my interrogation just now. And you're aware of the answer even before coming in here. Yeah, I'm attracted to her. Call it what you want. I don't care. All these years whilst I've been doing my job, Chief, I've been doing it with the department's best interest in mind. And also by digging for the truth. In her case…" Emma's eyes met Killian's, "I've done the same thing. And putting my personal feelings aside, there is so much truth in what she's told me. She hasn't lied once."

"Are you going to stand there, Swan, and tell me that this superpower of yours is your foremost reliable instinct in this case?" Danes was now mildly surprised. "This is not a casual encounter of sorts, we're dealing with here. This is an international drug cartel. This is law enforcement. From day one, I've warned you about trusting people too much on their word. There are criminals who are skilled enough even to pass lie detector tests whilst lying. You're aware of this. Jones is aware of this."

"But she's just a troubled woman who wants to clear her name," Emma sounded wounded. She was on the verge of tears now.

"Just because a criminal has a troubled past, it does not mean that we sympathize with them!" Danes enforced. "No one has the right to kill anyone. Regina has killed before at a very young age which makes her highly susceptible to doing it again. And with ease this time. A woman of her background clearly could be the mastermind behind all of this. Or are you forgetting Griselda who we all remember as the cocaine godmother?" He twiddled his thumbs and considered both of them wearily.

"Okay, well going forward, I'll do my best to dig further and find whatever else we can," Emma said in a softer tone, already ashamed of herself.

"You wouldn't be digging anywhere into this case from the NYPD," Danes suddenly said. Both the blonde and Jones stared at him. "You're off the case, Swan. For as long as it lasts. You're benched."

"Chief," Emma began, stunned at his decision to just lay her off like that. "No disrespect meant from this, but I'm the lead investigator. This is my department. Like you said…"

"Killian is now the lead investigator," Danes nodded at Jones. "I don't want you on this one, Swan. Simply because Mrs. Perez has gotten into your head and heart and it is unfair for all of us to have you here, trying to clear her name, whatever the costs. Jones. I want you and Savory in my office in the hour. I'll brief you on what must be done."

By then, Emma had turned her back on both of them and was now standing by the window. The view explored the back lawns of the NYPD. A few officers were outside goofing around. And even though they wouldn't lift their eyes to witness her tears, the blonde still felt as if the entire world was aware of her inability to perform her duties.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Swan," Danes said in a lighter tone. "But this is the best way forward. I have another case I'd like you to work on. Are you willing?"

"Sure," she said weakly, still studying the antics downstairs on the lawn. Davis and Morris were flicking each other behind the ears and laughing.

"Alright. We're detaining Perez for another 12 hours. We'd like to question her some more."

For a long time after he left the office, neither of them said anything to each other. Although she couldn't settle on being entirely mad at Killian, Emma still felt that she was wounded wrongfully and deserved a little more credit. For goodness sakes, wasn't she the one who provided them with enough information during that god awful interrogation? Would they use any of what was confessed? Or had everything been a total loss?

"I'm so sorry, Emma," Jones finally said in a voice so broken, her heart ached. "I really don't want to be the lead. You know that I'd rather have you in that place."

"It's all good," the blonde said after wiping her eyes. "Maybe the best thing so far is for me to avoid the case. I can't keep going in this direction. Think of the consequences of me being impartial. I'm not doing anyone any favors."

"But Emma…" Killian complained.

"Nah," Swan held up her hand, as those green eyes fluttered close. "It's fine. You'll do great. And I'm here if you need me. I think you should probably get your ass out of here and join them before the next round of interrogation begins. We both know that Danes hates it when his lead investigator isn't there by his side."

"I'd rather sit my ass right here, if you don't mind." Killian smiled at her. "To brighten up my best friend's mood."

After reassuring him that she'd be perfectly fine, he quietly left the room without the box of donuts. So this was it then. Being benched for the very first time in her career as a cop. What a glorious feeling to sit there and feel like a complete waste of potential. When she could be chasing leads and reading between the lines. Because there was something there. Something substantial that every one of them refused to acknowledge but her. And just when she was really getting her groove on, Danes pulled her off the line.

Well fucking fantastic. Emma decided to remain within her office for the rest of the afternoon, quietly brushing through some fresh paperwork. Trying to focus when inevitably, the words swam before her and Regina's beautiful face settled on the papers.

When she was younger, fairytales were all there was in her own little world. Princesses and Kings, Queens and dragons. Monsters and witches. The bad guys and the good guys. The ones who loved to read tons of books like Belle and the ones who fought battles despise their gender like Mulan. And Emma always longed to become like one of them. She always wanted to do so much more good in the world whilst maintaining harmony among everyone. Now, love was trying to unsettle the score between her job and whatever else there was in this chaotic life. And she more than ever favored the likes of both things all at once.

At a quarter to midnight, Killian's shadow moved outside of the louvre windows and then the doorknob rattled. When he let himself in, there was mild panic upon his face, but also a slight hint of excitement. And so, after guiltily perusing the folder containing information about Regina, the blonde quickly snapped it close and tried to appear calm.

"Guess who just escaped from custody?" he perched himself on the edge of her desk and smiled.

Emma couldn't believe it. "Regina? No way."

"Yup. She even ditched the handcuffs and slipped by the front desk without raising suspicion. I'd say that I'm slowly becoming an admirer of the woman. She's got skill. But my question is, why would an innocent person flee?" He studied the blonde's face and frowned.

"I guess she just doesn't like to be handcuffed to anything?" Swan provided with a shrug.

Both of them chuckled, in spite of the facts surrounding the situation. However, Killian sudden appeared sullen. "I fear that this doesn't do her any good, Emma. She's done it twice now. She will be charged most definitely if not jailed. I'm afraid that your girlfriend really is a very bad girl."

"She's not my girlfriend," Emma said smiling shyly. Those trembling fingers collected a few papers and stacked them neatly under another folder.

"Maybe she escaped because she wants to take you out on a date…" he fished with a smile though.

"Come on, I don't want to talk about it," Swan pleaded with her eyes.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and laughed nonetheless.

 **Review for more!**


	4. Chapter 4

Nothing ever settles too long though, especially in the life of a cop who chooses to become tangled in the DIU.

For several days, the blonde did her own investigating into the case surrounding the Red X Cartel, although benched. And for hours and hours she poured over case files and photos and whatever relating documents there were to support the crimes conducted by those heartless dealers. Names showed up, of course. Familiar names like Mario and Silvio. But by the second week a glint of gold changed the whole chain of events.

After perusing the cast offs; in other words, documents and photos that perhaps seemed irrelevant at the time of the investigation, Emma discovered a photo that puzzled her. At first, what caught her eye was the presence of a dark haired woman that incredibly resembled no other than Regina. She was older though, with crow's feet next to each eye and sagging, sallow cheeks. And this mysterious woman was standing around the table entertaining familiar faces of drug dealers like: Silvio. Within half an hour, she was waiting impatiently in a barred off room somewhere in the Lincoln Correctional Facility. When Silvio was dragged in, hands and feet shackled, the two of them acknowledged each other.

"If it isn't the Swan that sings," was his greeting. The officer chucked him onto the chair. "You here for why? To make me sing too?"

"Do you remember this woman?" Emma pressed the photo onto the dusty table before him. "Had to be two years ago. You're right there next to her."

Those bloodshot brown eyes studied the scene and the smile slowly disappeared from his face. Dark hair wild already, Silvio stared in disbelief at the blonde. "You bring her here. Into my life. Even though I curse her grave?" his eyes were bulging now. "I been praying she dies. Demon."

"Who is she?" Emma leaned over the table and gripped the edges hard enough. "Give me a name, Silvio."

"La reina," was all he whispered. "Cora Mills. She set me up, Swan. She threatened my family. I came here. From Mexico. With my boy and my wife. She gave me easy work. Said it's no big deal. Just do one job and I'm out. Next thing I know, I'm holding a gun and I gotta choose my son's life over four men. I shoot them. I can't kill my boy."

The injustice of this world, the blonde thought. "Is she the Queen of Hearts?" Emma was feeling a weight lifting off her chest. "Cora Mills?"

"Si," he nodded like an obedient child. "La reina is Regina's madre. Her mother. She wants her daughter dead. Look. I am glad I am here. And not outside. If I was outside she has control of me. Me being in here means my wife and boy is safe. You know?"

"I got it," Emma said absentmindedly. For this new pieces of information was of course, incredibly satisfying to behold. Not only providing so much clarity to by introducing another player onto the board, but also by clearing Regina's name completely.

By the time she was racing out of there to meet Killian at a café just around the corner from the precinct, Emma's heart was racing. Her soul was bursting at the seams and unravelling into a whole new world of pleasing results.

"You can get a statement from him," Swan told Jones moments after. "Silvio confirmed all of it. Who would have believed that it's her own mother?"

"I'm so blown away right now," he collected the photo carefully from her grasp, almost as if it was a billion dollars worthy. "This is impressive work, Emma. Think of how Danes would bite his own tongue if he ever found out that this was your doing."

"I don't want to rub it in at this point," she confessed. Emma sipped some coffee and scowled. "Eew. What the hell is this? Poison?"

"I suppose…" he snorted. "Oh before I forget." Reaching into his breast pocket, Jones fished out piece of paper. He handed it to the blonde with a sympathetic smile. "Regina's. Don't ask me how on earth I managed to get it. Just keep it and use it whenever you're ready."

Green eyes rested on a telephone number scrawled on the paper. Immediately, her heart softened. Because since they last talked to each other, Emma wished more than ever that she could discover some way to contact the older woman. Now, though, as she held the link between them, matters seemed far too uneasy to approach this path. However, sliding the paper into her pants pocket, she smiled at him and nodded.

"You're the best, Killian. I mean it."

"Between me and you," Jones said softly, leaning a little across the table. He was bashful all of a sudden. "That night when I told you that Regina escaped from interrogation, well…" He scratched the top of his head and barely looked at her.

Emma, of course, was confused. "What did you do, Killian?"

"Well," he shrugged and licked his lips. "I kind of passed her the key. Whatever else happened after then…"

She grabbed his hand, green eyes huge as saucers. "Dude, you let her go?"

When Jones merely offered her the same bashful look, Swan sighed and ran fingers through her hair. Both of them half smiled, whilst she grasped his hand further and attempted to show some gratitude that couldn't quite be expressed in words.

The new case spread out in the form of pages of notes and photos upon the blonde's desk was substantially frustrating after a minimum amount of three days. And divulging in cups of coffee wasn't entirely her preference as compared to cocoa. That's why, Emma guiltily slipped in and out of the precinct like a shadow trying avoid to looming likes of Danes around every corner.

Swan was in possession of a guilty mind that easily wandered to affairs of the heart. Of knowing that these things were forbidden. But still hoping that there were certain crimes which could be pardoned. After living for twenty eight years without a single inclination towards the same gender, here she was perhaps falling into a dangerously intoxicating abyss. Where her entire body, soul and mind rested on one person. One woman who had intrigued and disarmed her of knowing what was normal and not normal.

Pushing the details of the newest drug nest invasion away from her, Emma rose up and stretched. This was so frustrating, she thought. To strain her attention onto something that didn't seem necessary. Or didn't coax the least amount of energy from her conscience. That is why eventually those green eyes roamed the lawns behind the NYPD main building where stone benches served as resting places for officers on lunch. Pleasing enough as the setting appeared, Emma denied the longing to drift out there like a zombie. And choosing instead to stretch out on the two cushioned settee in the corner of the office, after five minutes the blonde slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The pulsing vibrating phone roused her after three hours had dragged by successfully without any interruptions. Emma, still disoriented, dug into the pocket of her pants and retrieved the mobile.

"Henry," Neal's frantic and breathless voice greeted her. "Do you have him? Is he with you?"

"What?" Swan immediately fell into the depths of panic. "No. I don't have him. I thought you were supposed to pick him up from school."

"When I got there, he wasn't there," Cassidy explained, as worry seeped into his tone. "I searched everywhere. Emma. I found his teacher. I talked to her and he wasn't in the school. I checked around the area. Got August to help me. But he's nowhere in sight."

She was already grabbing the keys to her yellow bug and on the way out, Emma snatched up her red leather jacket. Never had Henry done anything like this before. If he wanted to hang out with one of the other boys, he called her first. They always maintained that kind of bond with each other. Regardless of where he was or where she happened to be. And now there was a gut instinct slowly developing that frightened her more than ever.

Killian, heading in after dropping home Andy, bumped into the blonde and after being informed about the disappearance of the kid, he joined in on the search. But after an hour of sweeping the area from alleyway to inside shops and asking around, their minds were thrown into a frantic frenzy and Emma couldn't control her tears. There was no way in hell he could be missing. But he was missing. She couldn't find him. And even though Neal tried to console her, and Killian promised that they would resume the search, nothing could soothe Emma's frustration.

It wasn't until she was fumbling with the red scarf around her neck when the mobile rang again. Desperate for some kind of information from Henry, Swan answered in Killian's presence.

"Emma Swan." The purposeful tone laced with as much poison to kill was enough to unsettle the blonde. It was a woman. "We have your son. Now be like the darling you are and do exactly as I say if you want him back. He is such a sweet child."

Turning on SPEAKER MODE, Emma threw Killian a bewildered look. "I want you to place all the charges relating to the Red X Cartel on Regina Mills. This means, the murder of Machavano, and all murders relating to his death. I also want you to ensure that she gets imprisoned. Only then will you see your son again. And don't worry, we'll take good care of him. Unless you interfere further. Leave the Red X Cartel alone and stop digging."

When the line went dead, both of them stared at each other. For a few seconds, merely silence existed. Vehicles passed them by at either a slow crawl or a hurried pace. People heading out for a night on the town drifted by, decked out in their party attire. Laughter. Chatter. Smiles and everything else that would suggest them being engaged in the most delightful mood ever. Except for the panic like a ticking bomb ready to explode in Emma's chest.

"We need to take this to the Chief," was Jones first words.

"No," the blonde turned away. "I can't be anywhere near the case. He's already blacklisted me."

"Emma, listen to me," Killian steered her closer with an arm around slumped shoulders, "this is not just about the cartel! This is about Henry being kidnapped. You're being threatened to indict someone wrongfully. Because it _is_ evident now that Regina isn't the mastermind behind all of the chaos. Where are you going?" he stared in disbelief as Swan began to retreat from the conversation. "Wait up! Come on man." Killian hopped into her path and stopped Emma from taking any further steps.

"Look," the blonde began in a shaky tone, "I'm not going into the NYPD to report my own kid being abducted when I'm one of the same cops who'll have to go out there," she gestured onto the street, "to find him. I'm going to do what I know to get Henry back."

"Okay, well I already know," Killian reminded her, holding up his hands in defense. "I am equipped with enough information to take this to the Chief myself."

"You do that," Swan nodded, clearly frustrated and angry, not with him but with whoever the hell had snatched Henry. "I'm going to use that number you gave me. Whether Regina likes it or not. I need answers."

An hour after as the night transformed the city into clubs wrapped in pulsating colors, to an increase in the nighttime frenzy, the blonde found herself facing a dead end. After ringing the brunette's number almost fifty times, she completely gave up hope on reaching the older woman. Perhaps she had ditched her mobile. Maybe it was probably in a clump of bushes or inside a trashcan. Who knows? All Swan was aware of, was that time had been eaten up with no answers or clues as to where Henry might be.

Killian accompanied her to the old Craver's Fisheries where drug dealers built their nests. None of them were willing to comply with two cops who seemed on the verge of beating them into a pulp. So they finally led them to a guy by the name of Dusty who obviously had nothing to lose. Sitting on a trashcan, with his grey hair growing out into a fuzzy bush, the guy looked like the human version to a lion. He willingly fed them enough information though about Regina's mother.

"I don't work for the Red X Cartel no more because of her," Dusty said. He puffed on his cigarette and stared up into the night sky. "She is a fucking demon. She has her turf and other drug dealers have theirs. And if they ever cross her turf, dead bodies show up. Night or day. Thank the fucking moon I'm just a user. That's how I know who's who. Word gets around."

"If the Red X Cartel kidnaps somebody, do you have any idea where they would take them?" Killian asked as Emma was pacing around the dilapidated building with an agitated look upon her face.

"Hmm, a whole bunch of places that ain't got life in them no more," Dusty provided with a frown. "Last month, Alex got shoved into a pit down by the docks. One of those boats. Another time, this other guy went down an attic. It varies. If you're looking for someone they have, then you got to get into the head of someone inside the cartel. In the Red X, everybody knows everything. Whether you're a small rat or a big fish. You know something. They don't have walkie talkies. They move on word of mouth. So like if I know you, and I'm just small drug dealer, I can call you up and ask what's up. That's how it goes. Once you're in, you get the juice on everything."

Killian's eyes met Emma's green ones and something passed between them. She pleaded with him to detach himself from Dusty. Evidently, there was something important to be discussed. So ending the conversation with a friendly thank you, Jones jogged over to where the blonde stood wringing her hands.

"What if I do as they say?" Emma invaded his space immediately. "What if I put all the blame on her and she takes the fall?"

"Are you insane?" Killian couldn't believe her words. He stared at her.

"I don't care right now about anyone else but Henry. He's my kid," the blonde reminded him as tears clouded her vision. "Right now, nothing else matters."

"Emma, you really can't be that daft to wrongfully indict Regina when we both know now that she might be completely innocent…"

"But what if she did all those things?" Swan asked him bare facedly. "What if she lied and lied to save herself. And instead of having her fucking life threatened because she doesn't have a kid, I'm facing the consequences? All because I know her? All the things she told me could be a lie. Maybe she doesn't like me. Maybe she doesn't even want me in her life. Maybe she's a trained liar who got into my head and is making me believe that she actually feels the same way about me."

"Emma," Killian, regardless of how rigid her body had become, slowly enveloped the terribly conflicted blonde into his arms.

"I hate how she makes me feel," Emma cried as tears overwhelmed her. Chest shaking from sobs that threatened to suffocate her, Swan allowed herself to be hugged. "I hate how weak she makes me feel when I'm around her. I hate that she has so much control over me, that I don't even have control over my job anymore. And now they have my kid, all because I connected myself to her."

"Stop claiming that you hate her," Killian said softly, caressing to top of her head gently. "Because you really don't. Emma. This is what doubt feels like. This is what clearly occurs when you're so much in love with someone that anything that goes wrong, evidently the blame rests on them. You end up blaming them for the weather or missing the bus. And it's ridiculous because it's your mind fighting against your heart right now."

"But she made them take my kid away from me," the blonde croaked.

"She didn't do any such thing," Jones said. "She didn't make them take Henry. Deep down inside, you know that's not true."

"I want it to stop," Emma bunched up her fists and sniffed. "I wish I never met her."

"Well that's not for you to decide, I'm afraid," Killian frowned. "When two persons are meant to collide, it happens whether they want to accept it or not. Now it all depends on you. Is she a blessing or a curse? You will soon find out."

After protesting with her to grab something to eat, Emma eventually gave in. And whilst he regrettably abandoned her inside a diner very near the precinct, Jones returned to work to orchestrate a search party. It wasn't surprising that volunteers within the NYPD joined the squad to comb the area and any building for Henry's whereabouts. Cops in the department highly respected and favored Swan over Savory because Emma treated them with the utmost respect and love. She listened to them. She comforted them. She always had their backs.

Even Savory hastily began to tap into transmission feeds, trying to catch something on the radio signals. Somewhere along the line, maybe wires would become crossed and a cryptic message might pop up. In whichever way she could manage, Emma's biggest rival pitched in to help because she always had a soft spot for Henry. Everyone did. He was the kind of kid who flitted around the department, asking innocent questions and giving everyone no other option than to love him. After finishing up on her cheese burger though, the blonde suddenly stopped in the middle of the pavement amongst passing people. There it was. That feeling she had reveled in for a long time after Neal had left her with a broken heart. The emptiness. The coldness in the pit of her abdomen that could possibly floor her in the middle of everyone. The feeling of being cornered and not knowing where the hell to go. Of what to do next.

When she wandered aimlessly into somewhere that her mother would have been absolutely proud of, the blonde's mind was by then floating somewhere far away from New York city. It was the Saint Mary's Catholic Church. The only church of its kind in the Bronx that welcomed people from all walks of life, including prostitutes, drug dealers and other skanks as her fellow colleagues labelled them as. Somewhere that seemed like a place where no judgment pinned you down, where the priests and nuns did not cast out broken people but comforted them. All in the hopes of giving everyone a second chance at life to expel their hurt and pain without struggling by themselves.

In there, Swan pulled herself into a pew and settled down, with tears in those green eyes. There could be no more pain, could there? Not much more emptiness in this world. In her world. Doubt. And knowing not where to go.

A beautiful unity of voices emanated from the altar. Men and women of all races joined together with smiles on their faces as they belted out the chorus to 'I'll Never Find Another You' by The Seekers.

Emma, already completely cramped from devastation, discovered that the pleasant countenances and wonderfully symphonized choir eventually erased the anxiety bit by bit. Now, the most glorious thing happened to her that night. Something that possibly returned her belief in angels. As a kid, the blonde used to wonder about those godly creatures walking the face of the earth. In the confinements of public schools as the awkward kid, there was no space for comfort. And every single Sunday when she was younger, before the age of eighteen, Emma used to go to church. That same church in fact. Why? Just to sit there during Sunday Masses and listen to the nuns sings. Because evidently, their voices blended into beautiful songs that uplifted her broken soul. Their smiles were so contagious. They carried no burdens.

Four nuns dressed in white and blue habits were lined off on a bench a few feet away from where Swan sat, hanging her head in displeasure. How glorious it was that coincidentally, one of women reared her head as if someone had called out to her. Someone who was fighting to keep her sanity. And in just a few minutes, Sister Maria, an East Indian woman in her late forties with the kindest brown eyes, seated herself beside Emma.

"If I can say," the nun began in the softest tone that pulled the blonde out of her cloud of doubt, "I believe that we've met before. A very long time ago. I remember a little blonde girl who used to come to church every Sunday." Of course, Swan was intrigued now. "She used to sit right there," Sister Maria gestured to the pews on the eastern side of the cathedral. "And she would become so happy when we sang our songs. Was that you?"

Bewildered that the older woman could even remember something so distant in the past, Emma nodded. "I think it could be me, yeah."

"I thought you told me that you wanted to be a Sister of Charity?" Sister Maria laughed. "You wanted to help the children who couldn't look after themselves. Now you are a police officer." The nun gently took Emma's hand into hers and smiled. Her gesture was of course, comforting. "It's not a bad job. You catch all the bad people."

"I do." Emma licked her lips and strained a smile.

"But do you know that even bad people have so much good inside of them?" Sister Maria sat back and couldn't tear her gaze away from the blonde's face. "They are led astray."

"Right now, I feel as if I'm a really bad person that has a lot of bad things happening to her," Emma confessed. "I just feel like I've done something recently that made…God," she couldn't believe her sudden faith in Him, "angry at me. And now I'm being punished for it."

"God doesn't ever punish us. He waits on us to ask for forgiveness. If you believe that something bad was done, then all you have to do is pray."

"Maybe I've just given up hope in prayers," Swan settled back into the bench and sighed.

"Never stop believing in prayer," Sister Maria said softly. "If you could pray now with me, what would you ask God to do for you?"

For a few seconds, Emma replayed the question over and over in her mind and couldn't believe the depth of it. What would she ask God to do? To find help her find her kid, of course. But she couldn't tell the nun that. It could raise suspicion. He was kidnapped. She wasn't exactly in a situation to discuss anything further apart from that. And deep down inside her heart, Emma realized that there was something else. Something that had been killing her every single minute of every single day.

"I recently met this person," she began, never deciding to provide a name eventually. "And she's making me question every single thing I've ever believed in in my entire life."

"Let's call this woman…X," the kind nun proposed with a small smile.

"X…" Emma played along, "has done bad things in her past. But since I've met her, she doesn't seem like a bad person at all. At first I was like totally standoffish. I didn't believe that she could be so…" She struggled to find a word.

"Honest?" Sister Maria provided. "Genuine?"

"Yeah. Genuine. She doesn't hold back how she feels. She's the kind of woman who tells you whatever it is she's feeling, without being afraid. And for me, I've never met a person like that. Someone who can be so open about themselves and what they want."

"And that scares you."

Swan nodded with her eyes downcast. "It scares me because all my life, all I've ever wanted is for someone like her to love me. I always wanted…this one person who wouldn't be afraid to show me their flaws. So that I can feel comfortable enough to show them my flaws."

"Are you at peace with your flaws?"

"You mean if I've owned up to what I've done and realized that all of that makes me…unique?" Emma asked as their eyes met. "Yeah I have. I really have."

"I will be honest here," Sister Maria began in a gentle tone, "and I will tell you that there is more. You are not telling me what is the core of the problem. And that is alright. You don't have to tell me. But sometimes, it is best to talk to a stranger who speaks to God."

Emma laughed, because the idea of proceeding with the truth and believing that a nun would pray for her seemed ludicrous. "What if I told you that I'm in love with X?"

For a few seconds, Sister Maria merely considered those green eyes. Perhaps she wished to prolong the agony of keeping Emma in suspense. To have the blonde await the verdict. On being judged.

"Our God, is a God of love. If you are in love with a woman, then I will not sit here and try to persuade you to feel otherwise. That is not my job. My job is to remind you that you are the way you are because God has molded you to become this woman. All the choices you made in your life led you to this point. This is a test, just as any other decision. What is important is for you to pray and ask God to help you make the right decision."

"I don't think God will listen to me."

"Why?"

Emma shrugged. "Because these feelings I have are not exactly moral."

"If Jesus came through that door right now," Sister Maria pointed at the side entrance. Green eyes followed. "And he came up to us and he sat down next to you. And you tell him that you are terribly wounded and conflicted because you are in love with another woman. What do you think he will do?"

For once in her life, the blonde stared towards the entrance that was black as the night. And she thought about religion a little more than after so many years.

"He will not get up from here and leave you," Sister Maria said in a calm tone. "He will reassure you that love is love. And if you care about someone so much that you are willing to forgive them for their flaws which are their sins, then you are by all means a very good person."

They sat in silence for some time. The choir was still singing, and moving through a verse of 'Ave Maria'. And as Emma remained where she was, the entirety of the situation began to fit together like a puzzle. When her world had been falling apart, just the thought of having someone above all things like a superhero up in the clouds, using all the influence there was to help in any way possible; it was enough to soothe her worry.

"I want to pray with you," Sister Maria said, taking both of the blonde's hands into hers. And after Swan nodded, both of their eyes fluttered close. "Dear Jesus, in your name and your father's, I ask that you forgive this young woman for not believing in her worth. For doubting herself. I ask you to bless her mind, body and soul so that she can feel uplifted and spirited enough to go forward in life. I also ask that you help her make this difficult decision in her life. I want you to show her a sign. Lead her in the right direction." The nun gently squeezed Emma's hand. "Would you like to add a few words?"

Emma, at first, was terrified to even speak to someone who she had forgotten for so long. Now though, her eyes closed once more and she cleared her throat. "Dear God, can you just help me right now? I need more than I have to give. And…" she didn't want to add the rest, but concluded with, "…if she's the one, can you really show me a sign? I'm ready to give up on her."

"Thank you," Sister Maria said after the prayer.

Of course, Emma stared at her. "For what? I should thank you. I didn't do anything."

"You did do something," the nun proclaimed in a soft tone with a smile attached. "You proved to me that love will always conquer hate. And our God is a God of love."

After the nun had departed to join her colleagues, the blonde pulled herself up from the bench and left the church with a willpower that she had lacked before. There was a newfound energy in her stride. Emma's mind felt clearer. But Henry was still missing and she couldn't feel less worried because of that. Why would a mother feel relieved at that point? Most of her life was spent within a Catholic school manned by nuns many years ago. The kind of nuns that ruled with a strict hand. None of them ever seemed open minded about sinners and anything immoral. In fact, Sister Maria happened to be nicest one she had ever come across. Unless, after their conversation, the nun probably returned to her friends to lament about the sinner she had encountered. Then they would take out their rosaries and pray for Emma's soul to be saved from the pits of hell.

Regardless though, she didn't feel harbored by all the pain and doubt anymore. At least some good came out of their conversation.

For two hours, Killian and another cop drove around town beating down doors and strangers on red alert. Throughout the search, Swan was in the backseat or doing a bit of punching on her own, hoping that a few faces could be rearranged if possible. Because a mother's bond with her kid is the strongest of all connections. And if she had to kick a hundred men's asses to get Henry back, then she would by all means do it.

During the ride, however, there was a moment when she just found herself gazing up into the velvet sky sprinkled with twinkling stars. Her head lolled sideways as the car rocked through the streets of the Bronx and it was during that minute when Emma suddenly realized how tiny her existence was in a world so beautiful and huge. Like a grain of sand, she was part of something so extraordinary and every single worry that had been burdening her down, seemed like a small dot on the canvas of life.

"Give me a sign," Emma said to herself in the backseat whilst Killian and Barry chatted. "A message. A phone call. Anything. God. Please."

"Said something there, Swan?" Killian asked. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror.

"Nah," she shook her head, feeling foolish about asking someone she hadn't talked to in years for assistance.

Why should loving someone become such a difficult circumstance?

If Sister Maria was right, and God is all about love, then why the heck was she beating herself up about the four letter word? It wasn't about being in love with a woman that must have scared her, Emma began to realize. But it was the consequences. Like Killian had mentioned, entertaining Henry in that kind of life. Could she even introduce her religious parents who worshiped the Bible to a woman as her partner? Could she conjure up the willpower to comfortably make appearances with a woman and her affections in public around strangers who would cast judgmental glances?

When Killian parked the patrol car in front of a beat up motel, the blonde didn't follow him in. She settled into the backseat and those green eyes trailed his footsteps alongside Barry, the other officer who had joined in the search. What on earth could she do at that point? After questioning their undercover sources buried deep within the drug trade in the Bronx, the only information that leaked out was what they were already equipped with. What was she supposed to do now? Wait and hope that Henry would come running through the dark and into her arms?

Suddenly, her mobile began to vibrate. And groaning, already fearing another warning from the kidnapper, the blonde answered.

"Miss Swan," came the hoarse quality of that familiar voice.

When Emma absorbed the caller's identity, she gasped. "Regina? It was really her. The actuality of the moment kind of crippled Swan.

"Yes, dear," the brunette said softly. Her voice caressed the younger woman's heart. "How are you? I simply had to call. You must forgive me. This is of course, going against your wishes for us to avoid each other but…"

"I wanted more than ever for you to call me. Or find me," Emma confessed, as her tone dipped a little. Tears clouded those green eyes. And she couldn't believe it. Swan absolutely could not believe that her prayer had been answered. So easily. When all she had to do was ask.

"I know where to find you," Regina admitted with a soft chuckle. "But I'm afraid I can't place one boot into the NYPD at the moment."

"True," Emma laughed nervously. She felt as if her heart would explode. Her hands began to sweat. The car suddenly felt extremely hot although a nice cool wind was blowing around outside.

There was silence however. Something that didn't feel really uncomfortable between them. But spoke volumes. She was now aware of the magnitude of the other woman's effect on her; mind, body and soul. The depth of their bond. And then suddenly, when she heard a distinct sob on the other end, her heart shattered like glass.

"Regina?" Emma struggled to breathe. "Are you okay?"

"No," the brunette croaked on the other end, obviously losing her composure. "I'm falling apart. I really am not aware of how long more I will be granted to stay alive since my death warrant has been issued. And the only woman who could make me feel considerably less alone in this broken state, obviously hates me."

"I don't hate you," Swan said immediately in a strained voice, as tears slipped down her cheeks. The pale moonlight reflected upon the glass on the windows of the building not too far away.

"Then why are you keeping us apart?" Regina wanted to know. "Why are you choosing to ignore how you feel about me? And don't deny any of it. Please don't do that to me. From the moment I met you, I could literally sense the attraction between the two of us. Growing and blossoming. I detested it at first," the brunette admitted in a hoarser tone. "and I never willed to see you again. However, as fate provided, our paths crossed. You showed up at the church and our meeting…again…provided me with enough clarity to believe that I could be falling in love with you."

Curling into the seat, the blonde squeezed her eyes shut and hung onto every single word being said over the phone.

"I am completely in love with you, Miss Swan," Regina confessed in a broken voice that was laced with pain. "And the reason why I called you tonight is to ask you one question. I want to know desperately if you would give me a chance. Will you? I cannot promise anything at this point because I am not certain of what the future holds for me. But just knowing that you would give me a chance to prove how much I love you, is all I can wish for."

"Regina…" the blonde whispered through trembling lips.

"I could be dead by tomorrow," the brunette hit her with the harsh truth. "I'm in a safe house that is easily penetrable by my mother who wants to kill me. I mean nothing to her. And when I sit here in solace over the past few days, when I think of my life, I am reduced to nothing but broken pieces. But when I think of you, I am hopelessly happy. But if I cannot have you, then there is no reason for me to remain in here. In the Bronx."

"Where will you go?" Emma completely avoided the painful question. Her heart was by then, lying motionless in within an aching chest.

Dead silence.

The blonde began to cry. And as soft sobs filled the interior of the car, a light rain began to wet the still, cold night. "I'm sorry," she said in a frustrated tone. "I really am. I don't mean to sound so heartless. But right now, I'm so lost. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. My son's been kidnapped. Regina." She buried her face into the caramel colored cushion and fought to breathe. "Henry. Someone took him."

"What?" Regina said through tears. "Who took your son?" She sniffed on the other end.

"Someone from the Red X Cartel. A woman called me a few hours ago and told me that…"

"Emma," Regina interrupted, in what perhaps was a firmer tone. "Please. Don't say anymore on the line. I know where your son is. But I need to see you. Immediately."

"Where are…" but she couldn't expect the brunette to identify her whereabouts over the phone too, could she? "Tell me what to do."

"I need you to return to the place where we had our second date."

"What does that mean?" Emma was struggling to hold onto her sanity at the moment and could not crack any kind of codes in the midst of it all. "I can't do this, Regina. I really can't…"

"The place where we almost…kissed," the brunette provided in a strained voice. "I'll send a car for you. She'll bring you to me."

"A…what? Who?" But the line went dead. And in the silence of the night, Emma felt as if she was lying in the hospital and someone had pulled the plug.

What transpired in the next few minutes was evidently an adrenaline spurred period in her life that the blonde never dreamt would occur. It was like one of those promising scenes from an action movie involving spies and cops and getaway cars. Where the very nervous and anxious wide eyed police officer, strips away her blue uniform shirt to gradually expose a black tank in the back seat of a patrol car. Then discarding all sense of the world, and its dangers, that officer now in plain clothes, pelts into the night, daring to cover more than three blocks in the shadows.

It was a quarter to eleven that night when Emma returned to the same cathedral where Sister Maria had consoled her. By then, not a soul was in sight. The deserted street provided clarity that people where either buried within clubs by then, or nestled in their beds. Where she should be, with Henry curled up next to her. And now, as the street lamps cast a yellow glow upon the pavement, Emma slipped around the side of the stone building. Just as she neared the locked door leading into the washroom where they had almost kissed, the blonde heard the soft purr of a car engine not too far away. And rearing her head around a clump of bushes in the garden, Emma noticed a black car parked on the other side of the church.

Strange enough though, as she cautiously approached the vehicle, the features seemed all too familiar. It wasn't until Swan batted back into her memories when she realized where she had seen it before. That morning, when she was walking Henry to school. The same car, if she wasn't mistaken, had been following her slowly. Now, the driver who was evidently a woman, pulled half her body through the window on the driver's side.

"Yo," the brunette smiled widely and waved. "Are you Princess Charming?"

She was so tempted to deny the label. But Swan, however, fitted everything together and nodded. "I…guess," she frowned.

"Hop in," the other woman disappeared inside the car that was heavily tinted. The engine revved.

What the hell. Emma inhaled deeply, kept her fingers crossed and pulled open the door. After she settled herself into the plush seats of the Mercedes Benz, the brunette who was fashionably dressed in red, along with matching red lips and highlights in her hair, swung the car around expertly. Then out of the driveway they sped, into the night and leaving the cathedral behind like a blur in the background.

"Emma, huh," the brunette smiled widely whilst chewing on gum. "I'm Ruby. You can call me Red." She stuck out a hand, and the other remained on the steering wheel. "Pleased to meet ya."

"You too," the blonde took the hand offered and shook it.

"I'm a really good friend of Regina's," Red said in all smiles. "She's told me so much about you. I've been dying to meet you in person. It's like she just can't stop talking about this amazing cop she keeps running into. She swore to me that you're the most beautiful woman she's ever seen in her life. And I've got to admit, you really are."

Their eyes met. Emma shrugged. "Well, it's two against one, I guess."

"Come on," Red said, appearing surprised. "Don't give me that line. You should be proud. And besides, Regina doesn't go for any kind of person. It's really hard for her to trust anyone, or for that matter, fall in love with them. And I've got to tell ya, Emma, she's smitten. It's been so long since I've seen her like this. I've known her for a long time now, by the way."

"How did you two meet?" Emma was curious. Not entirely jealous of knowing that Regina had other female acquaintances. But merely intrigued.

Red, sighed. "A couple of years ago, she saved me from one of those fucking red light districts in Miami. I've given her my life ever since. She's saved a lot of us. You know, you get into the wrong hands as a young girl. Desperate for cash. And then you're beaten up and tossed around. Well, she finds those girls like me, and she gives us new identities and a place to live. She treats us like her sisters."

Her heart melted after realizing how amazing Regina was. The woman kept on astounding her in every possible way. To save young women like Red? To go out of her way to look after them? Giving them another chance in life?

"Don't hurt my big sis," Ruby warned when the car suddenly slowed down and nosed its way down an alley. "I'm warning you. You'll have a lot of angry ladies with pitchforks outside the NYPD screaming murder."

"I wouldn't," Emma was literally trembling in her seat from being consumed with the most intense feelings resulting from love.

When Red parked the car inside a yard that was littered with the rusty frames of vehicles, and protected by a tall fence made from barbed wire, the brunette gestured for the other woman to follow her. Quickly, they made their way up a flight of steps and down the corridor of a housing complex rising up to ten floors. From the looks of it, people who were barely scraping a decent amount of pay rented the rooms in the building. The walls were yellow, dingy and peeling. The floorboards creaked under Swan's footfalls. And every corner they rounded, the wind howled through cracks and the ceiling leaked.

"Here we are," Red finally said after they possibly passed by at least fifty rooms along the way. She offered Emma a wide smile before pulling out a key. "As soon as you go in, remember to lock the door. Stay away from the windows and don't answer anyone who knocks. Just in case Regina forgets to mention that to you. Bye!" And without sparing a second, the brunette dashed down the hall and disappeared out of sight. Strange, wasn't it? How life could throw you into the queerest situations.

Now, with the door barely ajar, and still pondering whether to enter or not, a hand shot out from the depths of the room and snatched Emma around the right wrist. Gasping, she allowed herself to be tugged into a room that immediately smelled so pleasant from warm butter rolls and cinnamon. When Emma finally fixated her eyes upon Regina frantically slipping the locks into place on the sturdy door, she instantly grew dizzy. Her knees weakened. Her pulse quickened and in that very moment upon casting a slow study upon the older woman's familiar body, her dark hair that curled around her shoulders and that goddamn perfect skin, the blonde fell in love all over again.

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	5. Chapter 5

"Miss Swan," Regina's brown eyes finally met green ones after securing the door. Her attire suited a sleepover, as she wore nothing more than a comfortable red wool sweater with long sleeves and a pair of grey sweat pants. Her feet were clad in red socks. Diamond earrings, however, twinkled from each ear.

"Regina," Emma softly whispered, whilst staring.

"Oh baby, I am so delighted to see you," the brunette immediately closed the distance between them whilst extending her arms.

Swan, of course, gently took a hold of those soft hands into hers. Regina's countenance revealed nothing more than complete love and admiration and relief after finally coming face to face with the other woman. It was beautiful, to witness the look upon someone else's face, appearing so fully relieved to see her. Realizing that another person could really love her as much as the brunette did, was clearly something that took Emma's breath away. Even as their fingers entwined, tears formed in her green eyes. From finally knowing what love could truly feel like when someone as special and beautiful as Regina loved her without a doubt and without holding back anything.

"Do let us sit down," the brunette offered, leading them to a comfortable looking caramel colored chair in the middle of the room.

There was only one bed within the cramped but clean apartment. But from the dark circles under Regina's eyes, Swan was very certain that the older woman hadn't slept in a very long time.

"Red told me what you did for her," Emma couldn't hold it in as her hands still weren't released from the brunette's soft ones. She sent her a warm look. "You're really such a good person. I can't believe I ever doubted your worth."

"Yes, I have…done so much good in my life to redeem myself," Regina acknowledged whilst bowing her head a little. Those honey colored cheeks became flushed. "Does this mean that you find my actions admirable instead of criminal?"

"I really can't explain how I feel about you, Regina," Emma admitted in a voice that cracked. A tear slipped down her cheek. "All I know is that I've never felt this way about anyone before. And it scares me that…"

"Shhh," Regina pressed a finger onto the other woman's parted lips to silence her. The gesture alone was so mind blowing, the blonde stared back. "I know where Henry is, like I said. Word gets around. And you will have him back in your arms before the sun rises tomorrow."

"How will you…" Emma began but she was silenced again as the older woman intimately caressed her parted lips with a soft thumb.

For fifteen minutes, Swan watched Regina take control of the situation. On the phone, the brunette made a few calls, and obviously one was to Red. Then moving quickly, she pulled open a drawer attached to a brown wardrobe and retrieved a Colt. From the looks of it, the gun had to be an M1911. And it really surprised Emma to witness the older woman tucking the weapon into the waist of her pants.

"I don't want you to have any more blood on your hands," she found herself admitting from across the room. Immediately, the brunette turned around and stared at her. Those red lips slowly parted. "You've done so much to try to get over your past," Emma said. "I can't stand the thought of you using a gun again."

"My dear," Regina slowly walked over to the blonde whilst gazing intently into green eyes. She cupped Emma's face into her hands. "I will not stand in your presence and allow anyone to harm you. Or your son."

"I have my weapon," Emma produced it and showed her. "Let me use mine."

"I have to be armed."

"Where are we going?" Swan wanted to know with a frown.

It was then when the brunette sighed. Allowing her hands to fall onto Emma's shoulders, she delicately played with soft blonde tendrils. "My mother has your son, Miss Swan. She is trying to get to me through you. And she is a monster. Cora will stop at nothing to hurt the ones I love. And I will always try my best to protect you."

"Is she the Queen of Hearts everyone's been talking about?" Green eyes widened.

Regina slowly nodded. "Yes. I couldn't risk it by telling you over the phone in case the connection was tapped by someone else. But yes. She is the Queen of Hearts. And she has no soul. I'm hiding in this godforsaken place because of her blood thirst. She will stop at nothing to get rid of me."

"And we're just going to give her what she wants?" Emma stared back, her heart already breaking from the thought of losing the brunette. "You can't go anywhere near her, Regina. She's going to kill you, isn't she? I can't let that happen. I can't just let that…"

Immediately, the blonde practically lost her marbles when the brunette closed the distance between them. She felt the older woman's soft mouth upon hers at first. The feeling alone was enough to still her heart. It was…blissful. It was…perfect. Too perfect and beautiful. And then, slowly, her mouth was nudged open by Regina's daring red painted lips. Enough, to initiate a deeper kiss. But then, fearing the worst, or perhaps, still in doubt, Emma lightly pushed away from a moment that threatened to weaken her state of mind. She stepped back a little, and cleared her throat. And then, only then was the answer to her worst fear clearer.

She was, utterly in love in all respects with the woman standing before her who had a Colt tucked into her sweat pants.

Those mellow brown eyes stared back. Searching. Awaiting the verdict. And then…someone was opening the door. It was Red. And when she realized how promising the situation was inside the apartment, the taller brunette smiled from ear to ear.

"Well fuck," Red said, "if the two of you could see the color of your faces, you would become two mushy puddles on the ground."

Still, though, Regina was searching Emma's green eyes. Trying to find something that probably didn't make sense to her. That was wounding her still. And even though the silence between them was possibly the worst ever, Emma still didn't utter a word of comfort to ease the pain. She managed to maintain a firm hold on the belief that this wasn't really the time to indulge in affairs of the heart.

"Let's go," Regina's lips trembled a little as she headed to the door after breaking the gaze. "Red, where's the car?"

"Round back, like I said," the taller brunette was staring at Emma now, as if sensing that something was off. Nevertheless though, she led them out the door and down the dimly lit corridor.

When they reached the car, Regina slipped into the backseat as the blonde entered. The handle of the gun stuck out from her waist band. And although longing to make that connection again, both of them avoided eye contact with each other. It was possibly the worst feeling of all. Knowing that all of this could literally boil down to an avoidance of acknowledging the other. Who wasn't any other woman, but someone that their hearts ached for.

"I'm sorry," Emma said in a broken voice. She couldn't stand the sore between them. It was all her fault.

The older woman fumbled with something in the darkness of the car. "Give me your hand," Regina said in a stiff tone. Clearly she was wounded.

"What? Why?" however, Swan produced her left hand slowly and regretted the willing move when the older woman clipped a silver cuff around her wrist. "What the…" then quickly, Regina secured the other cuff on the sturdy hand grip above the window inside the car. "Hey!"

Getting out of the Mercedes in a graceful stride, the brunette went around the car and slipped into the seat beside Red. The engine roared to life and with a struggling Swan in the backseat, the vehicle rolled through the alleyway and into the night.

"I've got to admit," Red said after driving two full blocks in a flash, "putting those handcuffs on Emma is some kinky shit. I like it."

Regina, however, didn't respond. Instead, she fixated her stare out of the window.

"You can't just keep me like this," Emma protested in the backseat. The cuffs rattled. The blonde growled. "I'm in this as much as either of you. He's my kid."

"Just shut up and relax," Regina stunned her by saying in a stiff tone.

It was enough to sting. Tears formed in those green eyes. "Wow. Thanks so much."

"You're welcome," the older woman provided.

Swallowing hard, Swan couldn't believe how quickly they had slipped into a terrible place that threatened to kill her heart. "I didn't mean anything by it, okay?" Emma began in a hoarser voice, regardless of Red being privy to the conversation. "I'm just swamped right now with my kid being missing and I couldn't…do it. I just couldn't. And now I take it all back. Because I didn't want you to feel like I was pushing you away. Did I hurt you?"

"You did," Regina croaked from the front seat. Red glanced over and noticed tears in her friend's eyes.

"Hey, fuck you, Emma," she said from the driver's seat. Her eyes met green ones. "I'll rip you into shreds if you break my baby's heart. You hear me? I'll kick your ass. Cop or no cop, I'm going to give you all I've got…"

"Ruby, don't," Regina interrupted. "Please." She sniffed and settled back into the seat.

"She's going to risk her goddamn life to save your son," Red continued anyway. "So don't sit there looking all torn up and feeling shitty because of this."

"I told her I'm sorry," Emma said from the backseat. Eyes downcast, she felt ashamed of herself. "I'm aware of what she's going to do for me. And I appreciate it."

"You really have a strange way of showing it, Miss Swan," Regina said in a strained voice. "Make a left here," the brunette pointed. Red turned the wheel.

When the Benz crawled to a stop in front of a dilapidated building on the outskirts of the Bronx, it was already after midnight. The sky was overcast with a promising rainfall that could literally chill the air further. There were trashcans lined up in front of the property. The place stretched five floors upwards and there wasn't a single light on inside the building. However, as the engine was killed, a dark haired man emerged from the shadows, and he was armed with a Colt also.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," his British accent stirred the air. "I'm Robin." He held out a hand. "You must be Miss Swan."

"I am," Emma stuck out her free hand and shook his.

"This is my best friend," Regina explained after getting out of the car. Their eyes met and it was evident now that a small painful gesture on the blonde's part would never dull the depth of love the older woman felt. There was a small smile upon her face. And those brown orbs registered nothing short of admiration. "Robin, you're already aware of where you'll be?"

"I am quite familiar with the building more than you," he explained to her with a frown. Red was gearing up, arming herself with two guns. "Shouldn't it be wise for me to accompany you into the core?"

"The core," Regina glared at him, "is my problem. It's where she is."

"Besides, I'll be right behind her," Red smirked at Robin. "No need for you to worry your ass off."

"I always worry my arse off about her," he admitted, still frowning.

"Well don't," Red provided him with a smile. She glanced at Emma. "Regina is totally in love with this one here. Apparently she loves pussy and not the cock."

"Ruby!" the older woman stared in disbelief. Emma, however, was impressed with the taller brunette's character and she snorted. "Might I remind you that it is unfit for a young woman to behave in such a manner? Especially in front of a gentleman?"

"Which part of him is gentle?" Red knitted her brows at Robin. "He likes it rough. Don't you outlaw?"

"Bloody hell," Robin muttered. Rolling his eyes, he retreated from the car and following immediately behind him, Red grinned from ear to ear.

Before Regina could trail after them though, she lingered by the car and eventually, her gaze rested on Emma. "Miss Swan, I will save your son. I can assure you that. But in the event that I do not emerge alive…"

"Don't say that to me," Emma frowned deeply. She rattled the cuffs again. "Let me go. I can go in with you. I'll cover you."

"No," Regina simply said. She bit her lips and blinked slowly at the blonde. "You have a child to tend to, dear. My life is less significant than his own. If I have to trade my life for either you or him, then I will."

"But you can't just stand there and tell me these things," Swan said in a strained voice. "And expect me to willingly agree. Regina, I'm sorry about what happened back there. I really am. Don't think for one second that I don't feel the same way as you do."

The brunette sighed. Lips pursed, she studied the surrounding scene and then returned her gaze to Emma. "I tried to kiss you," she said in a voice that the wind threatened to steal away. "And you pulled away from me. What on earth would you like me to think about that? That you're remotely attracted to me when you can't even kiss me back? Am I not appealing?"

"Regina, come on," Emma shook her head a tear leaked free.

"Emma, I really can't do this right now with you," the brunette said in a hoarse voice. "I've never loved someone as much as I love you. And right now, I feel like the most unattractive fuck up. Goodbye."

"No! Wait!" Swan pleaded. She fought with the cuffs, trying to pull the damn handle off the interior of the car. But it wouldn't break free. Therefore, there was nothing left but to sit there feeling defeated as Regina jogged out of sight.

For what seemed like an eternity, she remained in the car alone. During that time, several things threatened to suffocate her mind. Thoughts about the future and what it entailed. Thoughts about herself and what kind of person she could be. Mostly cruel. Cold hearted after that incident between the two of them. Why had she pulled away from kissing Regina? Because she felt pressured into doing something else? Wasn't it unacceptable to deny the woman you love and who loves you back effortlessly something so precious?

They had been separated for so long. Since that night in the interrogation room when Regina admitted that she couldn't live a life without Emma, nothing else seemed to matter after that. She used to call Neal once and a while to talk casually to him. But since the two of them had crossed paths, the blonde never really felt the need to call him. She longed to have conversations with the older woman instead. And now, if anything happened to Regina, where the hell would she place her belief in that Emma Swan was a good person who could be loved again by someone else?

When Red pelted through the shadows, with Robin in tow, the blonde sat up and stared. Her heart was beating fast, and even faster when she realized that Regina was nowhere in sight. However, there was a bundle within Robin's arms, and pulling the door open that led into the backseat, he deposited a frightened ten year old Henry into Emma's embrace.

"Kid!" she squeezed him so tight, he began to complain. "Thank God you're okay."

"Mom!" Henry hugged her back. He pressed kisses all over her face as she couldn't help but laugh through the worry of wondering where the brunette was.

"You called them?" Red was asking Robin. They both stood outside the car, breathless and waiting.

"Hold on one bloody second," he pressed a mobile to his ear, most likely a burner. "Hello? I'd like to state the whereabouts of Cora Mills, aka the Queen of Hearts." He glanced at Emma who was staring at him. "Yes. 212 Stonewall building. This is Agent Robin. FBI. I've detained the criminal and am awaiting your arrival. God speed." He ended the call and huffed out a sigh.

"Where's Regina?" Emma frantically whispered. Green eyes suddenly darted to the alleyway as the brunette jogged out, breathless and clutching her left side.

"In the car, the lot of you," Robin ordered. "Red, hit the gas like there's no tomorrow. Go!"

When Regina tumbled into the front seat, still gasping for air, the taller brunette hopped in and placed the car quickly into drive. Then making a U turn, the Benz sped away and into the night. Henry, by then, had already fallen asleep from exhaustion.

"Thank you," Emma dared to reach forward and grasp the older woman's right shoulder. She squeezed gently. "I owe you so much."

"Not at all," Regina winced, gritting her teeth. But something was wrong. Swan could feel the air inside the car growing heavy with static.

"Fucking hell," Red exclaimed and suddenly, she was staring at the other brunette with a bewildered look. "You've been shot?"

"Just…drive," the older woman said in a throaty voice.

It was then in that that instant when her biggest fear played out. After dreading this kind of outcome even before they all left her to rescue Henry, here it was. Emma, feeling a sense of coldness wash over her, couldn't breathe at first. In fact, she found herself squeezing between the front seats in order to assess Regina. And when she noticed the older woman's bloody fingers trying to clutch at her abdomen, Swan gasped. Her eyes filled with tears as Red raced them to the hospital against Regina's orders not to.

"Oh god," the blonde tried to apply pressure to the brunette's wound. Their eyes met. What passed between them was nothing more than complete love and admiration. "You're going to be okay," Emma tried to reassure her. "Don't worry."

"Swan," Regina croaked, resting her head onto the chair. "I…love…you."

Sending the brunette a look of utter awe and fright, the blonde swallowed hard. "You're not going anywhere. So don't even think for a goddamn second that you're leaving."

Obviously that wasn't the response anticipated from either of the two women sitting in front of the car. Red frowned deeply after those three words weren't reciprocated. In fact, she actually felt a small ache within her gut because of the most fitted response to console her best friend. If they were standing outside under the goddamn stars and she wasn't driving, Red would have pummeled her fists into the blonde's pretty face. Because it wasn't fair to have someone who loved you, hanging on there with their own blood on their hands, and for goodness sakes, you couldn't expel some kind of warming love and affection?

By the time they pulled up at the emergency doorway, the cops was already arresting Cora Mills who had been shot in both legs. Killian was present at the scene of course, being the lead investigator and all. And when he noticed Henry's brown jacket strewn onto a chair within the dusty looking building, Jones picked it up. His eyes grew glassy for a few seconds. Because this bust had to mean that the kid was alright. Had to. He hadn't gotten a call from Emma since she escaped from the patrol car earlier. However, within the pits of his stomach, Killian believed that Henry was safe and sound. And now, they had their prime suspect.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Machavano Perez…" and as he began to read out the names of the others who recently suffered from her wrath, Cora threw a maddening smile around the faces of the officers. "You find this funny, ma'am?"

"You can't contain me for long," she said and laughed in Jones' face. "I will find a way to escape. And then I'll find my daughter and I'll kill her. Eventually."

"Take her away," Killian shook his head and gestured to the patrol car. "And double cuff her. Cuff her ankles too!" he shouted over the maniacal laughter that trailed after the most insane woman he had ever cast his eyes upon.

Emma was so worried, she couldn't sit down in the waiting area. But remained standing, pacing the floor whilst Red harassed the receptionist about Regina. Was she going to be alright? Swan held her head and couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come forth. Fear, had dried them all away. Fear of the unknown. Of not being able to predict any of this. Like why the hell did Regina slip into the front seat of the damn car without telling any of them that she had been shot? Why would she do that? Did shock prevent her from the actual realization of her condition?

Now, whilst Henry slept in the car that was safely tucked away in the parking lot, somewhere inside the goddamn hospital, the woman who saved his life was currently being assessed. Maybe she was confused and frightened, Emma thought, wringing her hands. Maybe she felt so alone and delirious, wanting to at least see Red, if not her. Because why would she desire to see the blonde now? After what had transpired between them? After Emma realized that she could have possibly fucked things up for them?

"Doc," Red was speaking to a grey haired man in a white coat. "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

Clutching a clipboard with a very calming look upon his face, the doctor sighed. "Regina has slipped out of consciousness. She's lost a lot of blood, I'm afraid. We're prepping her for surgery now. The bullet, thank goodness, did no harm but is lodged in her abdomen. We have to remove it as soon as possible. Are you two relatives of hers?"

"I…" Red's cheeks puffed out. She stared at Emma baring a bewildered look. "I'm like her sister. But we're not related by blood. She has no family at all. We're her only close relations."

"And you are?" The doctor considered the blonde with a cool stare.

"I'm…" Emma stumbled around for words.

"Geez, you're her girlfriend!" Red threw her hands up and sent Swan a look of disbelief. "Just own up to it and don't be ashamed. This isn't the 15th century. And it sure as hell isn't a church camp."

The doctor laughed. "As soon as she's out of surgery, I will personally find you," he nodded at Emma. "My understanding when it comes to all of my patients, is that having a loved one by their side is essential for healing. Don't look so shocked," he smiled at the blonde. "This isn't the 15th century."

Was she her girlfriend though? She was losing her marbles, sitting out there in the waiting room afterwards. After Killian had called a few moments ago to give her the news about Cora, he expected her to sound somewhat relieved. But Emma had no words to express herself in that moment. None at all. And when he discovered the cause of her mood, Jones swore.

"I'll swing by and take Henry over by me," he told her directly rather than offer. "Don't you worry. She's going to be alright, Emma."

"She's unconscious," the blonde told him in a softer tone. Those green eyes were dazed. "I can't lose her."

"You wouldn't lose her," he tried his best to console with nothing more than optimism. "You'll see."

By the time she was out of surgery though, it was already past six in the morning and Swan was sleeping outside on a stretch of chairs. Red had left to grab change of clothes for Regina and a few other essentials. So when the doctor briskly walked out of the ward, he gently shook the blonde awake and informed her about the succession of the brunette's round in the operating room.

"She's being set up in a private room," he gestured to the white walled corridor on the eastern side of the wing. "In a few minutes, you'll be able to see her. Don't worry, she'll be fine. She's just very weak and still unconscious but she's all patched up and on the road to recovery."

After thanking him from the bottom of her heart, which literally by then was crowded with tiny fragments of glass, Emma dragged her feet whilst pacing the space between the rows of chairs. The precinct wouldn't need her help anyway with the case. After all, she had been benched. But the aftermath of making the biggest catch in history so far would have been spectacular to witness. Bringing in the big fish of the day. Cora Mills. She wanted to see this heartless monster. The kind of woman who ordered lives to be snuffed out.

At 6:45 am when Emma finally entered the small room with a view of the parking lot, the very first thing she noticed was something of miniscule detail to anyone else. But it would have been significant for the brunette. It was the way they had tossed around her appearance. Regina's dark hair was disheveled so Emma, of course, with tears in her eyes, gently raked her trembling fingers through the soft strands until she managed a part down the middle. What were they thinking by leaving her braless? Bare chested in that ridiculous looking room with the A.C on?

She pulled the soft red blanket from the brown leather duffel bag Red had brought along. And then neatly fixing the blanket over Regina's motionless body, Emma eventually sank into the chair right beside the bed. And she took the older woman's hand into hers. Barely warm, she was. But alive. Alive and okay. That's all she wanted at that point. Even though the brunette's midsection was wrapped with dressing to contain the wound from the gunshot, she would be fine.

"I'm here," Emma finally said after some time had passed. The morning sun crawled up into the blue sky, as cheerful as ever although the atmosphere was anything but sunny. "I'm so worried," she added, resting her forehead onto their entwined fingers. A tear slipped onto the soft white sheet on the bed. "I just didn't know what the hell to expect when I found out that you were hurt. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you…"

"Yo, you can head into work now," Red strolled into the room with a bottle of water. Their eyes met and she offered only a sympathetic look. "I saw the NYPD in a frenzy on the news. I bet you want to see all the action."

"I don't want to be anywhere else but with her," Swan told the tall brunette.

Red blinked slowly. She nodded. "I know you don't. But she's fine. You'll come back later. I'm here with here. If anything happens and nothing will happen, I'll call you. I got your number."

But Emma never made it into work that morning. By the time she reached home, and dropped the keys into the tray by the door, the blonde was already falling asleep from exhaustion. For over twenty four hours she hadn't taken a good rest. Life, it appears, had taken up so much energy and time. Life and love. And tumbling onto the chair in her small living room, Swan fell into a deep sleep that lasted until two in the afternoon.

"That's her," one of their trusted sources on the street pointed at the newly taken photo of Cora that was tacked up on the wall. Killian and Savory were in the interrogation room. Alongside Cora's photo was three other women's faces, including Regina's. Because Savory just couldn't rip the thought of the brunette being the main woman behind all the mess.

"Are you sure?" the heavy woman rested all her weight onto the table and stared hard into Alvin's eyes. "Because if you aren't sure…"

"It's her," he said firmly, although quivering from being mildly intimidated. "I've seen her a couple times around. She moves around in a black van owned by Pedro."

"And who is Pedro?" Killian furrowed his brows, whilst taking notes.

"They call him the Grim Reaper," he began.

"What is it with the damn nicknames?" Savory wanted to know. "What's your name then if it isn't Alvin? The chipmunk?"

"Actually…" he was sweating already, "it is…"

"Fuck," she threw her hands up in the air and strode towards the door. "Jones, finish off."

"What I want to know though," he pressed on in a calm tone, "is why you're now telling us about this woman, even after we've been in contact with you for a little over three years, Alvin."

"She has a way of getting to you, alright?" he stared at Jones with beady eyes. "She finds out who everybody is and she makes an impression around town. Most times, it's your family that's on the line. She comes and she shows you photos of them, shopping or the kids at school. And then she's asking you to kill someone. To murder them in cold blood. I've never been a target of hers, thank God," he made the sign of the cross and muttered something in Spanish. "But I was there when she harassed one of my amigos. If you ask around before she was caught, no one would tell you anything. Until now."

"Because now you're not afraid," he understood.

"Now we're free," Alvin said and let out a sigh of relief. "And now people will stop dying so much."

"But the drugs always remains," Killian rose up and shook his head. "Funny thing how business still goes on when the boss's head gets chopped off."

He was thankful that the Feds showed up eventually. In fact, handing the lunatic over into their care was ideally what the NYPD needed at that point. Since things had been entirely focused on the Red X cartel for years around the department, now someone to indict, a sense of relieve swept around the office like cool air. But they wouldn't stop there, of course. There were others. He was sure of it.

"Don't fuck it up, okay?" Red said to Emma the following day during lunch time visiting hours. She planted a hand firmly on the blonde's right shoulder, stopping her before Swan entered the room. "Listen to me, and listen good. If you're not in this for the long haul then don't come back. When she wakes up, don't be there if you're not ready for the next chapter. I swear to God, Emma, if you stick around and you play with her heart, I'm going to beat you into a pulp."

"I'd like to see you try," the blonde teased whilst smiling. "But I get it. I know what I'm up against here."

"I don't think you really know," Red said standing the door. "I don't think you're even close to knowing what kind of woman she is. That's why you've got to stay a little longer to know. And then you'll see what the real definition of beauty is."

Every single day for a week, Emma visited Regina twice a day; lunch time and after work. It wasn't as much time she would have liked to spend with her, but Swan managed just fine.

Mentally, she was on the verge of losing hope that the older woman would ever drift out of the unconscious state. Physically, oh how she yearned to embrace her. To wrap Regina into a gentle hug and to finally feel the softness of her body. Of how warm she possibly could be. Because that's what love did to her. Love stole into her dreams like a thief and enveloped the blonde in a state of neurotic fantasies and feelings that were being restrained. She couldn't touch her the way her body craved. She couldn't engage her in conversations that were meaningful.

But Emma helped comb her soft dark hair every single day. She would collect the red hairbrush from the small bureau and gently slip her hand under the older woman's head. Then gathering all the tendrils, the blonde slowly ran the brush through Regina's hair. And whilst she did so, Swan traced that perfect jawline with the edge of her thumb. She caressed Regina's smooth skin and her fingers moved across the brunette's eyelashes and the line of her brows. She was so perfect in every way. So delicate but so strong at once.

"Every single night," Emma said softly one day whilst she held Regina's hand between hers, "I dream of you. It just happens naturally like breathing. I lie there in bed and I just see you smiling at me. Saying, hi Miss Swan," the blonde laughed and felt her heart ache so much, "I'll be just fine. You wait and see. And then we're sitting together and you just wrap an arm around me and you hold me close. And every single night when I dream of you, I feel like I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

Wiping her wet eyes, Swan sighed. She glanced one more time at the IV drip and wondered for long more would that damn thing remain in the brunette's arm. Emma always hated needles. Which was one of the reasons why she never got any tattoos done. But apparently Regina had secrets of her own. Because every single day when Emma lifted the older woman's head to brush her hair, those green eyes rested on the beginning of a black vine on Regina's back. She longed to follow the trail though. And turning away now with a growing blush upon her face, Swan finally decided to leave.

It was only fitting that Neal would try to harass her eventually.

One week after Henry had been abducted, Cassidy called and blatantly accused her of putting their son's life in the path of danger just because she chose to be a cop. She was on lunch at that time, sitting beside Killian who was gleefully swimming in the facts of the Red X Cartel case fitting together. And as he listened to the conversation, his fists clenched and unclenched.

He always thought Neal was a jackass to Emma. From the first time he met him so many years ago and even now. Neal never understood why Emma behaved a certain way or why she chose to raise Henry in the Bronx. And now apparently, he was arguing with her to have the kid spend the weekend by his place. Jones listened and grew completely angry when Swan told him that she had complied with the bastard's arrangements.

"Just to shut him up," Emma said dishearteningly, "besides, the kid's been asking to hang out with him. I can't deny him that. It's his dad."

Refusing to argue with her, he settled down and sighed.

With Cora safely tucked into prison, awaiting her hearing, many glorious things happened around the Bronx. For one, Julio Perez and Mario Montano were busted behind a wharf in Manhattan. A couple days after, the NYPD squeezed them for some other names. By then, the Feds rained in and swept their criminals off into the sunset. Which pretty much left Jones with no other choice than to smile in satisfaction.

He realized that if you cut off the head of one of the snakes, the rest came crawling out of the sewer like rats. But he missed Emma working alongside him on the case. Some days as he stared at the board with faces, his eyes would rest on her handwriting in marker and Jones would hate Danes for benching the blonde. But it had to be done. At least that was the best alternative apart from giving her some time off. Because if there was one thing Emma hated more than sushi was time away from her job.

On a Sunday afternoon after lunch, the blonde's mind was racing when she headed up to the third floor of the hospital. Today, she had a plan. After listening to a bunch of songs since Regina was in hospital, Swan finally believed that she had discovered the perfect one to explain all that she couldn't do on her own. There are times when she hated herself for growing speechless at times when all that was required entailed so much more on expressing herself. And now, as she slipped into the room and her heart sank from Regina's unconscious state still prolonged into another week, she settled herself on the chair beside the bed and pulled out her mobile.

"I'm here. The love of my life," she said, shaking her head at how corny that sounded. "Your Princess Charming came in…riding on her noble steed…just to sit beside you and talk to you. Today, I actually finished that book I told you I started three days ago. For some odd reason, Scarpetta reminds me of you. She's so brave and strong. I guess it kind of comforts me when I read about her and I imagine she's you. Oh, and by the way," she laughed to herself, "Henry did this painting with you. He can't wait to show it to you."

"Well in the painting you're…" Emma tried to find words to describe the scene to an unresponsive Regina, "…kind of standing up with your arms out. And then he painted himself lying horizontally over your arms. It looks really weird but I swear, it's the cutest thing ever. And he wrote on top of the paper…my guardian angel. But he spelled guardian as gardion. Your hair is jet black. And um, I mean he drew this thin line where your lips should be." The blonde's eye rested on that part of Regina. "Your lips are so…perfect though. The thin line didn't do them any justice. I just…" she caught herself and sighed. "Anyway, I have a song I want to play for you. I was lying in bed last night, and it just came to me. I'll be so honest with you right now and I'm going to hate myself for admitting this but…"

A nurse passed outside and smiled at Emma. She smiled back.

"But…" she cleared her throat as the brunette remained motionless, "when I first started having these feelings for you, I kind of used Google to find lesbian movies. It's embarrassing," Emma held her face and blushed. "It's so embarrassing, can you even hear me?" she considered Regina's face and sighed. "Anyway, I found this movie. Loving Annabelle. And when I started watching it, I remembered how I did have a crush on a teacher once. Back in Catholic School. And there was this song in the movie. I had to download it because it explains exactly how I feel about you. It made me cry, actually," Emma's lips quivered when she unlocked her phone. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away. "So…here goes. I hope you're listening. I really hope you are."

When the beginning lyrics of Sara Bareilles "Gravity" filled the room, with just the two of them there, Emma collected Regina's hand into hers and she couldn't hold back the tears. Sitting there, falling into the words again, those green eyes fluttered close. Hoping. Wishing. Wanting. For her to wake up. More than ever.

 _You loved me 'cause I'm fragile._

 _And I thought I was strong._

 _But then you touched me for a little while._

 _And now my fragile strength is gone._

When the song's last notes dyed away, in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, a light wind came in to caress fresh tears upon Emma's cheeks. She hadn't let go of Regina's hand. She couldn't let go. Being drawn to someone, finding herself gravitating towards the brunette every single day was not a simple kind of love. No. It was extraordinary and beautiful. To her, it was new and not frightening anymore. Because she finally understood what she wanted in life. And what she wanted from their connection.

Gently, Emma rose up from the chair and without holding back, the blonde leaned forward and softly pressed a kiss onto Regina's beautiful lips.

Just for a moment, she lingered there. Time, stood still, and with her eyes closed, Swan savored the moment until she couldn't hold her breath anymore. Until she realized that possibly, the other woman had become her life line. But was she Regina's life line?

Evidently, as the brunette's fingers gently squeezed hers, and those brown eyes fluttered open, Emma believed that maybe she was indeed. Gasping, her lips quivered when the blank stare onto the ceiling moved to locate her green orbs filled with tears. The two of them gazed at each other and within a few seconds, a tear slipped down Regina's cheek and rolled into her dark hair upon the pillow.

She smiled at the blonde.

"Hi," Emma said as her chest heaved. "Welcome back, fighter."

"Am I dreaming?" Regina croaked, squinting up at the other woman. "Is that really you, my love?"

"It's me," Swan literally felt her chest swell from being referred to by such an intimate choice of word. "I'm always by your side. I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

"I thought you don't want to fall another moment into my gravity," the older woman enquired with a smile.

"You really heard the song?" Emma raised her brows in surprise.

"Yes. I've been listening to you for the past week whilst I've been unable to do anything else," Regina admitted. She tried to adjust her position but groaned from the pain emanating from the wound. "You finally potted those azaleas. You cleaned out your car just thinking about how I would disapprove of the trash inside. You even began to read again."

"I can't believe you heard everything I said to you," the blonde's eyes glistened with tears. "I thought that it was hopeless. Talking to you. But then the doctor suggested it. He's really nice by the way. And he told me that it could help you come back to me faster. Along the way too, it kind of helped me whilst I talked to you."

"Well our one sided conversations saved me, Emma," Regina admitted with a slight frown. Still entwining their fingers, she flexed her toes with the red socks the blonde had slipped on her feet. "I'm afraid to tell you that I almost died. And when I say almost, I mean that I was, as ridiculous as it sounds, on my way to some other place other than our world when I saw your face. At first I was confused. Because I kept trying to talk to you but my entire body couldn't move. And then day after day, I just drifted out of a deep dreamless sleep to listen to you."

"That is so scary," Swan admitted. She fixed the white gown with blue circles absentmindedly, taking special care to pull the split in the neck closer together to conceal the brunette's cleavage. "Do you think you went to Heaven and came back?"

Regina thought about it and sighed. Her eyes fluttered to the ceiling and then back to green ones. "I really don't believe in God, Emma. Forgive me."

"But Henry thinks you're an angel," the blonde admitted in a soft tone. "And I think so too. So how can you not believe Heaven exists when you're from there?"

Laughing a little, the brunette shook her head. "I've seen enough of hell to ever think for a minute that I'm an angel. Are you religious, my love?"

Emma's smile widened. "I kind of really like it when you call me that. My love. Or that one time when you called me 'baby'. No one has ever called me that before. Not even my ex-husband. And I gave up on believing in God a long time ago. Until recently, I ran into someone and I ended up praying, asking Him to help me figure this all out. Me and you. And He gave me a sign. He led me right to you. And I don't know if I'm being crazy about it but I kind of believe that there's someone up there listening."

"Well that same someone sent me back down to earth to be with you," Regina admitted in a hoarser voice. "So don't screw it up, baby."

"Call me baby again," Emma blushed deeply.

Regina's chest heaved as she returned the smile. She licked her lips. "I prefer Miss Swan."

"Come on," the blonde protested. She groaned. "That's so formal. We're way past that."

It was disheartening to become informed about the lovely mansion in Long Island that was seized by the Feds. Why? Because of the involvement of illegal activity Machavano partook in to furnish the place. With its expansive green lawns, tennis court and pool. His flamboyant lifestyle had flourished on that property. Not forgetting the garage with a variety of prized cars. The interior with crystal chandeliers and marble floors. And the FBI loved nothing more than to stamp down on those kinds of properties belonging to drug lords like him.

It was a pity, Killian thought, that Regina's humble abode was centered in the place. Now, she was homeless in a manner of speaking, if one excluded the safe houses the brunette lived in for the past month or more. But surprisingly, she had been smart enough to have cleared all her clothes and footwear from within the large closets. He wasn't remotely certain of where those things could have ended up and he didn't want to know. However, it would seem that the very attractive side piece by the name of Ruby Lucas, was fully informed about the whereabouts of such possessions.

The day that Regina was released from the hospital, Killian had been thrown into the hot sauce because of the NYPD's negligent behavior in allowing the brunette to escape police custody. Well…he had some explaining to do. Evidently, leaving the handcuffs a little loose warranted him a warning.

"Take it easy," Emma gently helped the older woman onto the plush bed in the spare room within her apartment. They had successfully managed to climb the flight of stairs. Now, the hardest part was over, it was like turning over a new page.

Pain registering on her face, Regina slowly eased herself into a lying position. Those brown eyes gazed up at the blonde. "I really don't want to inconvenience you, Miss Swan."

"It's more than okay for you to stay here. Come on, don't fret about it. Even if you had somewhere else to go, I'd still volunteer." Emma fluffed the pillow up before slipping it under the brunette's head.

"Yes but your son," Regina reminded the younger woman. She sent Emma a look of uncertainty. "Wouldn't this perhaps…confuse him?"

"That the angel who saved his life is now living with us?" The blonde sighed with a smile. "The only thing he's wanted to do for a few days now, is to meet you. And as soon as he gets home, he'll make you feel more comfortable here. Relax." Emma gently took Regina's hand and squeezed it. "You need to get some rest."

For more than a couple of days, the act of bonding between them had been extraordinary and far from anticipated. Even though she had awakened yesterday from a long state of unconsciousness, her world was considerably brighter now. Full of colors because of their growing connection. It was like waking up again, refreshed and renewed. Like the rain, settling on drier leaves and flowers, leaving them revived again. That's how Emma certainly made her feel.

Regina was silently impressed and confused as to why the blonde was still in her life though. Trying to figure out where they began and ended. Where their worlds collided and what should be defining of their relationship. In fact, during the long days of summer that the brunette spent within the confinements of the apartment, she began to clearly understand what her life had been lacking for so many years. The child; Emma's son Henry was a beautiful, innocent soul who clung to her like their lives were meshed together in some amazing way.

"You're my superhero," he declared the first time they shook hands. She had been sitting up in bed, whilst Emma pushed up the window to allow the cool morning breeze to flow into the room. Henry plopped onto the bed and gazed at her with mild fascination. "I remember you showing up like Super Woman and you just…saved me."

"And I would do it all over again," Regina smiled warmly at him. Swan was quietly considering their conversation whilst folding up a red sheet. "Are you feeling better now? Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes," Henry nodded and shrugged. "Is everything okay with you?"

"I'm on the mend," the brunette admitted, detesting that every attempt to move a muscle in her body ached. "I hate to invade your space, Henry. I feel as if I'm intruding."

"Oh no," the child said with widened eyes. "You're not. When mom leaves during the day for work, I'm here all alone locked up in the apartment. I play video games," he said with a lopsided smile. "But I get bored easily. And the TV doesn't have cartoons until after 4. So we can keep each other's company."

Regina's heart swelled from joy. "I'd very much like that. Do you like reading?"

Swan, shaking her head and smiling from ear to ear, gave a small wave to the older woman before slipping out of the bedroom. Oh how amazing it was to witness the two of them bonding already. The kid really had a genuine way of making people like him wherever he went. Something she had lacked when she was a child. But then, being alone in New York with her Aunt Belle, and being torn away from parents she thought adored her; that was enough to make Emma believe less in her worth.

The pile of books on the table beside the bed that kept Regina for most of the day gradually increased in height. The kid had dragged his small yellow chair into the room too, fixing it very close to where the brunette rested. Therefore, he managed just fine with mother buried in work at the NYPD during his summer vacation. How? By reading with his superhero every single day just after lunch time.

"I can't read this word," he would shyly inform her after perusing a book on fairytales.

"Here, let me see," Regina would gesture for the book to be handed over to her. "Hmm. The fairy briskly skipped through the green grass as the malevolent imp followed close behind."

"Ma-le-vo-lent," the word rolled off his tongue.

"Try it," she held out the book and smiled. "One step at a time, sweetheart."

"I'm so embarrassed," he said pouting and hanging his head. "I want to read big books. Not Enid Blyton anymore."

"Have you tried Harry Potter by chance?" she enquired with raised eyebrows. When the child merely shook his head, Regina was not quite satisfied. "I'll ask Ruby, my friend, to drop off my collection. I have all the books and would very much like you to read them."

"Really?" he stared at her as if the very idea of being offered a collection to read was the most inspiring offer in the world. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," she smiled back. "After all, I am your super hero and no one else's." The sheer delightful look upon his round face could literally erase all the brunette's worries.

"You're mom's super hero too," Henry told her with a small smile. "She's been sad and lonely for so long after dad left us. But when she talks to you, she looks so happy. I want to see her like that every single day."

"I try to make her happy," Regina admitted, already feeling her cheeks warming up as a dull flush probably covered them. She twisted the edge of the red blanket between her fingers slowly. "It seems as if she hasn't quite let me in as let. But we're slowly getting there."

Henry sighed. "You know, she's tough. She lets no one in. Well except uncle Killian. They go way back."

Although they hadn't quite brushed back the years thus far from conversing with each other, the brunette never really was informed by Emma about her past with Jones. But she refused to fish for information from the child. Henry shouldn't be squeezed for details that Swan could easily provide, given the platform. However, it appeared as if their bond wasn't so solid as yet to accommodate the reveal of certain aspects from the blonde's past. Not yet, maybe. But soon she hoped that they could reach a place where their comfort in each other would provide further clarity on their pasts.

A week slipped by with Emma returning late from work because of paperwork and the list August had provided with known drug dealers. Since the case was almost closed on the murder of Machavano, Danes eased Swan's participation into matters at hand gradually. Every day, she was briefed on a lead that entitled her to accompany Killian and the officers on investigations around the Bronx. By the end of the week, they had managed to throw more than ten highly dangerous dealers behind bars. And she felt pretty good about herself.

Friday rolled around and Emma wearily climbed the steps leading up to her apartment at half past six in the evening. Another day busting criminals, her legs were aching and she just yearned to expel all of the frustration into the cool wind outside. The sky had been overcast since lunch time, and now, a light drizzle covered the city with flashes of lightning that sent the kids screaming into the apartment complexes.

After unlocking the door, she dropped her keys onto the bureau by the door, took three steps then stopped. Eyes widening, at first the blonde believed that she was honestly being deceived. It must be a delusion, couldn't it? To witness Regina dressed in a pair of black long pants with a white cotton blouse, carefully setting the small dining table; it was astounding. Why? Because the brunette had been trapped inside the bedroom for days because of her bandaged midsection. The pain, at times was horrible. And now, there the older woman was, accompanied by Henry, obviously on their own mission to wow her.

Both of them turned to offer smiles.

"Guys, what is this?" Emma took tentative steps into the small dining room. When the smell of mashed potatoes, steamed greens, beans and baked chicken drifted to her nose, the blonde realized how hungry she was in an instant.

"We made dinner," Regina's voice trembled a little as she smiled. "Henry and I. Enough microwavable meals and fast food," she tilted her head as pure love radiated from those brown eyes. "I'd like to see you eat a proper meal after a long day at work."

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	6. Chapter 6

"I'm so…" Emma's throat ached as those green eyes filled with tears, "impressed and speechless right now," she gazed at the older woman, not knowing how she could have ever been so lucky. "You're not supposed to be doing so much though. On your feet. The doctor said…"

"The doctor said that I should be able to manage just fine without strenuous activities," Regina assured her. "Believe me, I haven't been straining myself."

"Mom," Henry pulled out the blonde's chair carefully, "please be seated."

"Kid, you're going to make me cry," Emma said to him as she sat down and her voice trembled a little. "Geez this is too much for me right now. I've never…had this…I've never had anyone do this for me."

"Well we are more than obliged to show you what you have been missing," Regina patted Henry on the back as he pulled out her chair with a smile. Then seating himself, he felt contented as the brunette nodded in approval at his expertise in being a gentleman.

As they all passed around the dishes and helped themselves in silence, the blonde couldn't contain her feelings for such a prolonged period. Gradually, a tear slipped down her cheek. The two of them sat on opposite ends of the small table that was covered in a green and white table cloth. Had they been fatiguing themselves all afternoon just to put this all together? How and when did they plan all of it? She was so proud of Henry. He was growing closer to Regina in such a short span of time because of the length of time spent with Regina. And she deeply admired how the brunette allowed herself to become attached to the kid.

"How was your day?" Regina asked softly as she used a knife and fork. It was a habit that neither Henry nor Emma had grown used to between them. And therefore, both of them admired the older woman's table manners whilst eating.

"Um, it was pretty busy," Swan admitted whilst chewing, "the usual; arresting people and interrogating them."

"You must be so tired," the brunette said, using the knife to cut up the vegetables in her place.

"I really thought I was tired, but after coming home to this," Emma shook her head and smiled, "I'm so wowed. I can't even swallow my food properly right now. This…" she swallowed as those green eyes fluttered close, "tastes amazing. I love it."

"It's called home cooked food," Regina winked at her whilst smirking. "You should let us indulge every once and awhile."

The comfortable setting was so new to Emma and Henry though. Sometimes they dined with Killian's family, on Sundays or maybe during the week after a spur of the moment kind of decision. And it was a beautiful moment to sit around a table and engage each other on the day's events whilst eating a decent meal. Especially for the kid. Henry should have been having a life that encompassed breakfast and dinner together as a family instead of fast food and microwavable meals. Now, they obviously had an angel inside their lives.

That's how Regina made both of them feel. She had flown in bearing wings with scars on her back, and the brunette was slowly beginning to change them both.

Henry, Emma noticed, was a very avid reader instead of sinking himself into video games throughout the day. His manners at the table improved tremendously. In fact, she couldn't ever recall teaching him how to set the table. But he did these things naturally now. The kid even took pride in the way he dressed, just to squeeze out compliments from Regina about his handsome appearance. It was almost as if he deeply admired and treasured her, because they formed a bond during the days inside the apartment over the summer.

"I want to thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for what you did there," Emma pulled open the glass door leading onto the small balcony. There was a roof ahead, thankfully. The light drizzle had gradually become heavier.

Regina found the small space outside comforting. Her gaze wandered into the living room where Henry was now buried between the pages of the first Harry Potter book. "Emma, you need not thank me. This is cozy."

The blonde gestured at the brown leather settee baring two comfortable cushions. "After you."

"Quite the gentlewoman you are," the older woman acknowledged with a smile. She settled herself onto the soft seat and awaited Swan to sit beside her. Instead, Emma leaned a hip onto the iron rail that bordered the small space. "Are you okay, my love?"

"Yeah," Emma squinted at the sky, her face upturned, "kind of…I don't know…feeling a little mushy at the moment. I blame it all on you. How's the…" she gestured at her midsection with a frown.

"Oh it's perfectly fine," Regina said, glancing down with a smirk. "It says hello," she teased.

"You really like doing that, don't you?" the blonde's cheeks flushed. "Getting to me somehow."

"I find it insulting that you wouldn't join me on this comfortable settee," Regina said in a calm tone.

"Maybe it's because you'll make me feel uncomfortable in a good way," Emma admitted with a shrug. Biting her lips, as their eyes met and a gaze was initiated, she smiled. "Geez, when you look at me like that, I just get this…fluttery feeling inside my chest. No one has ever looked at me like that before."

"Oh that's called love, dear," the brunette provided, that smirk still playing upon her red lips. "Admiration, attraction…Sit next to me. Come on. I'd like to have you close to me."

"In a minute," Emma looked up at the sky again.

Regina frowned. "Miss Swan, you do realize that we haven't kissed since that night when you…pushed me away."

"I kissed you in the hospital," the blonde reminded her. "Didn't you feel that?"

"It's not the same," Regina's chest ached. She patted the seat next to her and sighed. "Emma, sit next to me and let's have the conversation that has been prolonged enough."

"What conversation?" Swan complied, but slowly with a frown upon her face.

"Us," the older woman provided in hoarser tone whilst studying her hands. "You. Me. The wall between us."

"What?" Emma tried to appear confused. "There is no wall."

"This…" Regina began in a softer tone whilst their eyes met, "is you being defensive. Emma, after that night, everything happened so fast. I was shot. Rushed to the hospital. And after then, you have tended to me like no one else has ever….done before. When I believed that you would leave me, you stayed by my side. Every single day you talked to me. We had conversations. You've shown me that I can love someone and they wouldn't run away because of my past or because of my broken pieces. But then…ever since I've come into your apartment, every single day you wake up, you check on me and then you're gone. When you get home…"

"Regina…" Emma began in a hurt tone.

"When you get home," the brunette continued, reaching out to grasp the blonde's hand, "you're so tired from work, you're off to bed without coming to sit with me and talk to me. I cannot keep denying my feelings and what I…want," Regina admitted as her lips quivered. She however did not divert her eyes from green ones. "I very much would like to be so close to you at times, that it hurts me physically, Emma. It hurts that you wouldn't even…lie next to me or embrace me."

"I don't want to…make your wound hurt," the blonde said in a pained voice.

"Stop making excuses," Regina said plainly. The wind whipped around them. "Emma, are you merely tending to me because I've been shot?" She inquired whilst trying to search those green eyes. "Is that it? Are you not in love with me?"

"Why would you even say something like that?" Emma's voice was strained from emotions coursing through her. "I'm looking after you because…" she gulped and struggled with the feelings that were consuming her.

"Because…" Regina pleaded, squeezing the blonde's hand between hers. "Baby, you can say it. I would like to hear you say it. More than anything in the world right now, I'd like to hear those three words."

Emma bit her lips. She inhaled deeply, trying to gather composure but her eyes still glistened from tears. "I love you, okay," she croaked. "I…really love you. And I'm sorry about keeping my distance. I just thought that you wanted to heal."

"Oh Miss Swan," Regina smiled. Taking the blonde's chin between her fingers, she brought their faces closer. "I am in no need of distancing myself from you," she rested their foreheads together, "I've been dreaming of us…with no distance between us. Making love to you…"

"Shit," Emma whispered, savoring the intoxicating wave of pleasure drifting through her body, from limb to limb. "Go on."

"Can I kiss you?" the brunette croaked, rubbing their noses together as her heart hammered away. Slowly allowing her fingers to trail along Emma's neck, Regina captured soft blonde tendrils into her grasp.

Without answering, Emma pressed her lips upon softer parted ones. A soft moan escaped from within both of them. A sound that…pleased her. Like the softest kind of music which could curl her toes. She settled into the meeting of their lips and savored the kiss that was barely there. But so mind blowing because she could taste her….barely. A bit of sweet from the sauce and a hint of orange from the juice. And it was strange. So strange that all of these things, Emma remembered.

She could smell Regina's soft scent of jasmine and cool strawberries from her shower gel. She could feel the warmth radiating from that flawless honey colored skin. Everything…was beautiful about Regina. Everything was perfect about her.

"You don't need to ask," Emma said softly. She licked her lips and gently wrapped an arm around the brunette.

The fire in those brown eyes though. That wide eyed gaze. It was almost as if Regina was…in so much awe, she couldn't contain herself. And without sparing a second, the brunette crushed their lips together hungrily. A deep, throaty moan escaped from within Emma as her bottom lip was nudged downwards by Regina's soft mouth. And then, the blonde became entirely lost in a deep, passionate kiss that consumed her. That stilled her heart and stopped her lungs from functioning. Until her toes curled for real and her fingers raked a pathway up into Regina's dark air.

She kissed her back like the world was about to end. Like if she was compensating for all the painful time lost between them thus far. Hands roaming, sliding up their soft backs and across heaving chests. Emma became so lost in the moment, that nothing else mattered. Nothing. Not even the heavy rain merely four feet away. Not even Henry lying on the couch inside. No. All that mattered was the taste of another woman, and not just any woman, but Regina.

The one woman she had grown to love so much, to care for without sparing a second thought. Kissing her and holding her was like finally finding the most beautiful treasure in the world and wanting to savor it so much.

Regina, lost in her passion, bit Emma's bottom lip and pulled gently whilst her hand sought out the buttons on Emma's shirt. Slowly undoing two of them, she gingerly slipped a few fingers inside, tracing the outline of the other woman's bra. The feel of soft skin under her fingertips. Going in for the kiss again and this time, she introduced her tongue as the blonde's mouth remained so inviting. So soft. Before they both realized, their hunger for each other was climbing to a point where Emma had to lightly pull away, in fear of Henry coming out to check on them.

"I need to freshen up anyway," Emma said breathlessly when their fingers remained entwined.

Regina nuzzled her face into the crook of the blonde's shoulder and moaned. "I love how you smell. And taste."

"I taste like an Emma, huh?" Swan teased, holding the brunette in her arms.

"You taste like an Emma."

"And you taste like heaven."

Regina chuckled hoarsely. "Well you said I'm an angel. So naturally… But I'm not, Emma. I really am not an angel. I can be so bad."

"How bad?" the blonde searched brown eyes.

The brunette licked her lips and traced Swan's perfect ones with her thumb. "Go take a shower. We need to break apart and at least check up on Henry before he worries about us."

"Right," Emma pushed herself off of the settee and then after winking at the older woman, she strolled into the apartment.

Later that night, maybe a little after the Bronx's atmosphere tasted a bit chillier than before, a thunderous rain suddenly burst upon the world. Henry curled up between his blanket, falling into a deep sleep. The windows rattled from the heavy winds. Somewhere, a trashcan was overturned with a loud clatter in the night. And in the darkness of the apartment, a shadow moved through the distance between two rooms slowly.

Turning over on her back and groaning, the blonde's toes had become icicles. So naturally, she fought with the blanket, hoping to curl upon her side like a taco. The bed felt so cold in some parts. She oftentimes wished that the invitation to share the bed wasn't such a bad idea. Now, within the dark although a soft light from outside the window was cast into the room, someone barely opened her bedroom door and slipped in. She should have been terrified, probably reaching for her gun. But the air, although chilly, took on a much more comfortable feel as a familiar soul drew nearer. A soul that radiated with warmth and so much love. And…lust.

After Regina sat on the space created by Emma on the soft bed, the two of them gazed at each other. For a full minute or perhaps more, nothing was said between them. And it wasn't an awkward silence, but one consumed with so much desire. So much longing as their chests heaved. As Emma sought the older woman's fingers and entwined them with hers. It wasn't just about their connection anymore. It was about trying to drown in the beautiful feeling of passion and love and everything in between.

Slowly, the brunette stole the blanket away from Emma's body. In the dark as the soft glow played upon her curves, the older woman comfortably maneuvered into a seated position between the blonde's parted legs that was advantageous to roaming hands. Her fingers slipped into the waist band of the blonde's yellow pajama pants. And Emma was surprised at the bold gesture so much that she believed herself to be lost in a dream.

However, easing her hips up from the creased sheets a little, she allowed it. Emma's chest heaved uncontrollably when Regina tugged the her pants down in the dark. What was it going to be like? Would they both become tangled in each other's arms? Would she enjoy it? Her mind was spinning out of control when the older woman leaned closer and began to press soft, wet kisses upon the warm flesh around her hips. Teasing kisses. Her lips lingering upon Emma's skin and then trailing downwards.

She had to roam her fingers through dark, disheveled hair. Emma had to. It was only fitting to at least guide the brunette's face lower and lower as she bit her lips and squirmed upon the sheets. Was it always going to be so explosive between the two of them? So…raw and passionate? The cravings? Of wanting so much more and then drawing each other nearer to satisfy that thirst?

When Emma felt Regina's warm breath between her legs, the blonde gasped. Parting her legs a little more to accommodate the brunette, a loud moan escaped from those trembling lips. Evidently, this was more than pleasurable. Unlike any kind of love making she had ever experienced. And when Regina slipped off the blonde's panties, tossing it into the shadows, the real thrill began to unfold in the early hours of the morning.

Her mind spaced out when the older woman used her hot, hungry mouth to do all the things Swan had never imagined. Causing her to twist on the sheets, holding fistful of material between her fingers as Regina's tongue expertly traced every single inch that threatened to unearth a scream. A hoarse cry eventually sufficed. A cry for more. And more as the brunette began to suck so gently whilst slipping a finger into the younger woman.

Emma at last, let her mind drift into a place that was consumed by so much pleasure, she astounded herself. By then, her body had managed to awaken in so many ways, whilst Regina was thrusting with two fingers and going down hard on that soft spot that ached and throbbed from pleasure, the blonde choked on a scream. And barely remembering Henry, she blindly fought in the dark to cover her mouth as her body climaxed in heavy, intense waves over and over again.

It used to feel impossible to reach the edge. Now, as Regina continued to torment her in such a deeply satisfying way, the blonde wanted so much more. It had to be possible. Had to be far beyond dreaming. It was too real and raw to be just a dream. So much that as soon as she began to dwell on the possibility, Regina began to suck harder and thrust deeper with kinked fingers that created a pleasing pace. Until Emma's mind grew dizzy, and the sweet pain from feeling those perfect lips moving through every pulsating orgasm really pulled Swan into another place inside her mind.

By the time her body had managed to rise up from the pleasing pits of desire, she was alone in the bedroom. The sheets were dampened from sweat and her aroused smell still lingered in the air along with that beautiful jasmine scent. Maybe Regina had left herself on the sheets. Or maybe her soul still settled on the bed. But physically, she had slipped away and away from the blonde. And it ached Emma. It really did. To reach out in the shadows and cling onto empty, cold air that was seeping through the cracks.

She had no choice but to fall asleep with Regina's ghost curled up next to her. Reminiscing on her very first intimate experience with another woman. How beautiful and climatic it was. How she still had her pale yellow vest on, and they hadn't even travelled a mile as yet with each other. But to know for certain now that the kind of pleasure emanating from having a woman slowly then passionately make love to her was so intense and unforgettable; Emma rested upon the bed, with those green eyes glassy. Lips barely parted, she remembered when they kissed that night. It was the most blissful feeling of all.

That morning as the wet panes of the windows glistened from the sun's rays and cast a yellow glow into her still room, Emma pulled the sheets off of the bed. Sweeping her messy blonde hair into a high ponytail, Swan moved around the room in her panties and tank top and stooping to snatch up the pair of crinkled pajama pants, she slipped into them. Then bundling the sheets up, still smelling of last night's journey to pleasure land, the blonde sucked it up and built as much composure as needed to face Regina.

It wasn't that she was exactly nervous. Nor was she terrified from what had happened between them. But for the first time in her life, Emma was washed over in a sense of shyness about what could possibly change between them after last night. What would the brunette say to her? Would they talk to each other like before? Would there be an awkward silence now that Regina had basically seen her partially naked, and had…tasted her.

Truth be told, Emma had never been on the receiving end of oral sex. Ever. Neal never entertained that kind of activity, whether from lack of practice or being uncomfortable, she had no clue. But now, there she was, feeling between her legs tingling still and savoring the excitement her body swum in. Knowing that this had been the first time ever for her, and lo and behold, it was a woman who ended up doing the job. And skillfully too, from the feel of the after effects still sending sparks through her body.

Henry was seated on the table, spooning frosted flakes into his mouth. He waved at her. And Regina...was standing with her back towards the blonde by the sink, dressed in her pajamas still and clearly setting up two plates of something that smelled like bacon and eggs. Her stomach growled a bit. But her heart overrode that feeling by doing somersaults within her chest.

The brunette was humming to the 'Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers.

"Morning," Emma poured herself a glass of orange juice. Those green eyes rested on the older woman.

Regina, startled a little from the silent entrance of the blonde, spun around stared. "Good morning."

For a few seconds they merely locked eyes and remained speechless whilst Henry reared his head to consider both of them standing in one attitude. Then, gradually, Emma pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Did you sleep well, Emma?" Regina settled a plate in front of Swan and then planted the other one on the table right beside the younger woman.

"Yeah. I really did."

She called me by my first name, the blonde digested the occurrence in awe. She didn't refer to me as 'Miss Swan' which she always does. But now, the sound of Emma rolling off her tongue in that hoarse tone was…beautiful. So beautiful, Emma caught herself staring and then when their eyes met, she returned to her plate.

After Henry left them in solace on the table to watch cartoons in the other room, the two of them actually cast secretive glances at each other. Then when they were caught in the act, both of them smiled a little. Which pretty much meant that there was no awkwardness between them. And this pleased Emma because she had anticipated a dreadful feeling. Like a bitter winter after a beautiful sunny day.

"So last night, huh," she began, chewing on bacon. Reaching for her glass of orange juice, the blonde glanced at the brunette. "It feels like one of those amazing dreams you get where you don't want to wake up."

Regina sighed. "I had breakfast too early," the older woman dabbed at her lips and offered a small smile. "I'm too full right now."

Impressive. Emma, of course, stared back in awe. "Well I'm so hungry. You burnt me out last night. Can we do it again?"

"Yes, if you insist," Regina nodded and carefully stabbed the eggs with her fork. She considered it. "Might I ask if it was…as you expected?"

Emerald eyes widened. The younger woman remained speechless.

"No, forgive me," the brunette shook her head. Her chest heaved. "I'm merely being foolish but I'm not the kind of woman who takes things slow. Usually, I'm the one who dares to…wander a little more…without clothes."

Emma gulped. "We're actually talking about sex. During breakfast. You realize that, right?"

"I want to rip your clothes off and make passionately love to you," Regina said in a husky voice laced with so much lust, her brown eyes were fiery. "Right now."

"Hey," Emma whispered, glancing back at Henry. "The kid's right there."

"We'll lock the door," the brunette smirked. She collected the blonde's hand and squeezed it. "Don't you want to see me naked? Or is this just a chance in the dark kind of thing between us."

"That's…unfair," Emma said, obviously wounded. She swallowed hard and sat back in the chair, arms folded. "Stop doubting me, okay?" There was a knock on the apartment door. "I'm in this as much as you are so don't sit there and believe for one second that you're alone here." Getting up, she grabbed a napkin and wiped her hands. After raising her eyebrows at Regina, the blonde went to the door.

There was a guy standing outside, cradling a box about one foot on all sides. "Got something here for Mrs. Perez," he said coolly, handing the package over.

At first, Emma wasn't obliged to collect it. But he practically shoved the box into the crook of her arm before retreating to the stairs. "Hey!" she called after him. "What the hell is this?"

It was so strange that someone would drop off a package without demanding a signature. Which pretty much left one option; a sender's identity wasn't warranted. In fact, as she studied the brown wrapping, the blonde felt an uneasy wisp of worry swirling around her chest. Naturally, she was about to open the damn thing right outside the door, in case it was some kind of explosive.

"I'll take that," Regina swooped in suddenly and eased the box out of the blonde's arms, leaving her to stare wide eyed. Then slipping into the apartment, she left Emma standing by the door with a quizzical expression on her face.

Regina closed the bedroom door softly upon entering it. Obviously she had something to hide. So, Swan, believing that she had every damn right to intrude, pushed her way in and stood there, arms folded and clearly upset.

"Shut the door, will you?" the brunette hastily began to unwrap the package. "I don't want Henry to come in here."

Obeying, but discontentedly, Emma dared to draw nearer as the box was torn open to reveal white crepe paper stuffing inside. And maybe it was a gift from someone special. Maybe it was a perfume or some other beauty care products. But no. Instead, the older woman plucked out a fucking sexy looking lingerie made from red lace.

"Do you like it?" Regina's eyes sparkled as she shook the garment out for both of them to behold. "It comes with a matching bottom. It's actually Victoria Secret. I'll put on a show for you." The brunette pressed the red lace to her chest, smirked and swayed around a little.

"Pretty impressive," Emma swallowed hard, definitely entertaining the idea of the older woman in the two piece only.

"I also lingered on the idea of getting us a strap on and vibrator, but then I wasn't sure what you would prefer," those brown eyes twinkled.

"A what?" the blonde stared back, completely mortified. "You aren't being serious, are you?"

"I never joke about sex."

"I…don't…want a strap on," Emma couldn't for words as thought of Regina wearing one kind of displeased her. "Woman things. Just…woman things. And parts. And…boobs." Back pressed to the wall, she marveled over the brunette's agility. All of a sudden, Regina began to flit around the bedroom as if she was thoroughly excited. Not forgetting that impish look upon her face. She clearly had something on her mind, and Swan's certainty rested on intense foreplay and a repetition of last night.

Sometimes one's instincts switch on in the most unusual scenarios. Unplanned, maybe. But coincidental? Maybe not. Because there she remained standing by the door whilst Regina rushed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. The red lace lingerie was strewn out on the bed. So Emma, wishing Henry not to come into the room and cast his eyes upon it, decided to fold the garments and pack them away in the closet. And by reflex, that's when the blonde pulled out the bubble wrap from the box and she began to pop it like a kid.

Then, something very unusual caught her green eyes at the bottom of the box. Something that had become so familiar in her line of work, at first, she believed that her eyes were deceiving her. But upon further scrutiny, without touching of course, the cold wash of dread that consumed Emma immediately dizzied her state of mind when she realized the horror staring up at her.

At the bottom of the box were six clear Ziploc packets about four inches in width and length containing white powdery stuff. Clearly this was not happening to her. It must have been a prank. Regina would burst into the room right about then and bust Emma about her paranoia over the packets. But Regina didn't come to the door. The sound of the water gushing from the tap in the next room was constant. And literally feeling her fingers turn into icicles, the blonde carefully collected the cover of the box, pressed it over the top and retreated from the room.

When she plopped down next to Henry, Emma's mind was spinning. Possibilities. Fear of losing trust in someone she loved so much. What went wrong between them so suddenly to unearth such an unsettling habit? Had she always used cocaine? Was Regina an addict? She could be an addict after being tossed around in a drug cartel. But it never came up between the two of them. And she couldn't entertain drugs in her apartment. Not with Henry around. Not when she was a cop for the damn Drugs Investigation Unit at the NYPD.

Emma felt cold and conflicted and every time Henry tried to engage her in conversation, she literally could hear his voice lost between the crossed wire thoughts streaming through her brain.

By the time Regina had showered and changed into a blue blouse and a pair of black cotton slacks for the day ahead, Emma had already decided that the sight of those dreadful packets had brought on too much paranoia.

"Where are you going?" the brunette frowned when she arrived in the living room, with the hopes of joining in the setting.

Emma was prepped already in a black tank top, and sweat pants. She collected her wallet without making eye contact. Her gun remained in the holster upon her waist. And she suddenly felt the need to take along her handcuffs. "For a run."

"Now?" Regina's eyes rested on the oval clock. "It's after ten already. And it's Sunday."

"Doesn't matter," Swan was already unlocking the door in a haste, "keep an eye on the kid for me." _And your damn drugs._

The blonde descended the iron steps as her boots clanked loudly all the way down. Already feeling a cold sweat coming on, Emma wasn't ready to face the harsh truth. Therefore, whenever she felt cornered, she tore herself away from the situation enough to gather her thoughts. Only then could she find some kind of meaning from the peace away from the chaos.

Jogging all the way down to Harley Street, just a corner away from the hospital, on a fine Sunday morning, Emma heard the voice of Elvis Presley drifting out from one of the alleyways. Stopping to catch her breath, those green eyes rested on an old man squatting down in the shadowed space between the two buildings. In front of him was two things not too hard to distinguish; a red transistor radio and a bottle of good old whiskey. His kind of medicine, she supposed. Some people deluded themselves into riding out their worries, others sucked on bottles of alcohol, some people self-harmed. And then there were others like Regina who delighted in the white powder Emma was working so hard to cut supply on the streets.

How could a conversation jump from lingerie and sex to drugs? They were fine, weren't they? Possibly not, as Swan recalled the small references to the holes in their relationship so far. Last night, Regina practically asked boldly if she was merely tending to her like a nurse would. Then this morning, she wondered out loud if they would only display their affections for each other in the dark. So was the brunette maybe compensating for the terribly unsettling feeling of doubt?

Emma, clearly cramped from the situation at hand, arrived at the apartment building and was ascending the stairs. After reaching a level below her place, she stopped, and suddenly caught the same man who had dropped off the package earlier lingering by the apartment. Clearly, and evidently upset, Regina's hoarse but crisp voice drifted down to Emma, who was already pulling out her gun.

"Take it back," the brunette demanded, shoving what appeared like a bundled up brown paper bag into the man's chest.

"It was part of the deal."

"No it wasn't," Regina demanded through her teeth. "I don't bargain with imbeciles like you."

"I thought you was paying."

"I'm not paying."

"Look, lady, give me the money or else I'll cut up your pretty face and…"

"Hey!" Emma yelled, planting herself at the bottom of the stairway and aiming her Glock decidedly up at his face. "Get the hell away from her."

Eyes widening, the man who was evidently guilty as fuck, scrambled with the paper bag in his arms and he pelted down the hallway. The blonde with adrenaline pumping through her veins, sprinted towards the fire exit and could feel the muscles in her calves tightening. The ringing in her ears couldn't even dull the sound of her beating heart as the blonde chased after the man down the rattling steps and into the alleyway. Eventually, she managed to catch up with him, lunging for the fat bastard who served as a cushion as they both crashed onto the ground.

"You're under arrest," she was already reading him his rights, "for possession of drugs and attempting to solicit sales of drugs…"

"She asked me for the fucking stash!" he defended himself, clearing hysterical with his cheek pressed onto the asphalt.

"Anything you say, shall and will be used against you in a court of law…" Emma fastened the cuffs and could literally feel the tears stinging her eyes from the betrayal. The confusion. The doubt of not knowing what the hell any of it meant.

By the time the patrol car was rolling away from the curb, Swan stomped up the fire escape with her fists clenched. And there was no going back now. Not when she practically witnessed everything. When trust was such a difficult thing to build on, hardening like stone after many encounters, Regina just had to shatter it. Between them now, there was nothing more than fragile love; something so delicate like the flutter of angel wings, in the pits of her stomach, the blonde still felt like a damn fool in love. Because after it all, Swan couldn't stop loving her.

She just couldn't. And after brushing past Regina who had remained in the doorway with a bewildered look upon her face, Emma reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

"Go to your room, kid," she said in a hushed tone that didn't entertain any kind of anger displayed. "And lock the door."

"Mom, what's wrong? Henry stood up, hugging his book and staring at her with widened eyes.

"Just do as I say, okay?" she ruffled his hair and jerked her chin in the direction of the rooms down the hall. "I need to discuss something really private with Regina."

"Like cop business?" he was intrigued.

"Yeah." Hands planted on her hips, the blonde could feel the brunette's presence behind her. Just by the door. Regina stood there emitting an aura that was definitely thick enough to cut through with a knife. The tension between them was already growing. So much, that when Henry retreated and locked the door, the silence that lingered as she kept her back to the older woman was painful.

"Emma," Regina began in that hoarse voice of hers, "clearly you are upset and I must oblige you to allow me to explain myself."

"How could you do it?" Swan finally turned around and faced the brunette. Her green eyes were a bit icy. "How could you bring drugs in here? Into my apartment. In front of my goddamn kid. Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"Calm down," Regina said in a very gentle voice. She lifted her hands defensively whilst a painful look entered those brown eyes. "I had no idea that when Red mentioned a gift, that she would be so…insane…to include drugs."

"Red sent that box to you?" Emma frowned. The pace of her heart would not slow down. "Why would she even send lingerie to you?"

"Because I asked her to."

"Who was the guy, Regina?" The blonde asked, "do you know him? Does Red know him?"

"I'm not familiar with him," the brunette admitted with a shrug. "I've never seen him before."

"Then why did you rush to the door to take the box away from me when you weren't even sure who it was for?" Emma asked, growing suspicious.

Regina, however, sighed. "Red told me when to expect it. So naturally, you really don't receive any packages and I assumed it was mine. I have no idea who he is. I swear to you."

"Then why did he come back here demanding to be paid?" Swan's voice rose a few octaves as she gestured to the door. "Stop bullshitting me and tell me the truth, Regina!"

"Stop yelling at me!" the brunette cried back in a huskier voice as her brown eyes flashed. "I'm speaking the truth. I'm as puzzled as you are right now. I have no idea who he is or why he came back looking for money."

"In case you didn't notice, I'm a fucking cop," Emma stated in a clipped tone. "I could get fired for that kind of shit. And you know this. You know the kind of job I do and still, it's like you're handling this so easy as if it doesn't mean anything big right now."

"Don't stand there and treat me like an invalid," Regina said through her teeth, clearly upset. "I know the facts enough to feel completely bad about myself right now. But don't you dare talk down to me."

"Killian warned me about this," the blonde sighed and shook her head in disbelief. "This kind of…chaos. The life you lived in has its strings and contacts and I'm scared right now about all of this. Because I have a ten year old kid. He's innocent and he's so vulnerable right now and he believes the world in you. And I don't want to expose him to that kind of live."

"So you're basically saying to me that I am a criminal, is that it?" Regina nodded as tears filled her eyes.

Emma began to shake her head in denial. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then enlighten me on what kind of life you thought I lived, Miss Swan," the brunette's sarcasm was heavy enough to sting the younger woman. Even reverting to formality between them cut Emma deeply. "I believed that you of all people understood my background. What happened to me and how I was chained down by my mother in a drug cartel. A place where I wanted to run from since I was a child. You think you're some kind of hero, don't you?" Regina couldn't fight the tears. "Rescuing the broken woman from the clutches of a drug cartel prison. Offering her your home so she could heal after saving your goddamn son. And this is the thanks I get."

"It's all coming out now," Emma stared back in awe. "Wow, continue." She folded her arms as green eyes filled with hot tears. "Throw your knives at me."

"I'm the bad person," Regina gestured at herself. "Who doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt from the one person I love with all my heart. The one person I cannot live without right now, is accusing me of being a drug dealer. Do you even love me? Or am I just a pity case?"

"I don't have time for this," the blonde retreated in a haste whilst shaking her head. "I'm not going to listen to this."

"No you listen to me, Miss Swan!" Regina chased after her into the kitchen and blocked the younger woman's path, her brown eyes fiery. "Don't fuck with my feelings," she pummeled her fists into Swan's chest out of frustration.

Regina was fighting to compose herself but the wealth of frustration that had aggregated from over the past few days terribly devastated her. So much, that she lashed out at the younger woman. Fire danced in those brown eyes. Like hot molten lava. And even when Emma caught those pummeling fists and the two of them struggled around the small space, the older woman would not comply.

"Let me go." Regina's chest heaved uncontrollably as she fought to free her hands. "I don't want you to have any kind of control over me anymore."

"Regina…" Emma was struggling to carefully handle the situation. "I don't want to have any control over you."

"Let me go, Swan," the brunette pleaded through tears. "I'm a criminal."

"No you're not," Emma said in a softer tone now, completely regretting the path she took to earn the truth. "I just want to know what the hell happened, that's all. Would you stop fighting with me?" Swan held up her arms in surrender and felt like the world was crashing down on her. "Do you hate me now? Is that it?"

"I don't know," Regina said in a bitter tone, glaring at the younger woman. "I wish not to speak to you or be in your company right now."

"Is that really what you want?" the blonde was stunned. "Just because I asked questions about what happened?"

"Don't ever raise your voice at me," the brunette's brown eyes were shooting daggers. "I've tolerated enough abuse from Machavano and my mother, and I will not choose to be with someone who is verbally abusive."

"I'm being verbally abusive?" Emma scoffed and gestured at herself in disbelief. "Look, I apologize for yelling. But I'm not going to say I'm sorry for the questions I asked you about the goddamn box. I'm a cop. I need to know the damn truth. You can't deny that if you were in my shoes, you'd be paranoid too. I'm doing what I'm doing here because I'm confused."

Regina however, wasn't pleased at all. "You can interrogate me with your questions, believing immediately that I'm guilty of an offense. And you can keep treating me like I'm a wallflower, Miss Swan…"

"Don't Miss Swan me," the blonde knitted her brows, "we've been through a lot."

"Clearly, none of it made any kind of sense to you. I am sick and tired of that wall you've constructed to keep me out. And it keeps me up every night, so much that I've begun to actually blame myself for failing somehow. It has been more than three weeks…Emma," Regina said through gritted teeth. "Three weeks and I had to beg for you to kiss me last night. You're not attracted to me it seems. Not my body. Not even…"

"Regina, stop it," Emma pleaded, as tears leaked down her cheeks. "Come on, I'm slow at this. I really am and I've only ever been with one guy who broke my heart. I've never had someone who loved me this much. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Stop making goddamn excuses!" the brunette demanded. "Do you want me to leave? Is that it?"

"Leave if you want. I can't force you to stay. You obviously don't give a shit about me right now. So there's the door. Let yourself out."

The two of them stared at each other for a long time. The pain. The agony of literally clinging to every ticking second was so excruciating, they were eventually driven to a dead end. A place where there were shadows and an empty kind of feeling that arose from an abundance of need and desire. Brown eyes blinked slowly whilst Regina clutched at straws, being hopeful for something a little more than silence. Perhaps Emma would run to her, and embrace her in a tight hug. She would fight back but then gradually melt in the younger woman's embrace. Because she still loved her with all her soul and mind and heart. She was so in love in love with her. So infatuated by the blonde. It wasn't healthy.

And Emma…

She stared back as her heart cracked bit by bit, breaking away the stitches that had patched up the broken pieces over the years after Neal left. It was like falling and opening up an old wound again. Because she was falling, wasn't she? Into that same dark pit again where her arms flailed and the world disappeared and no one was there to catch those broken pieces. Regina couldn't understand the doubt. The brunette believed that all she had to offer were excuses. And Swan thought that maybe she was pathetic. Maybe she was just gunning this out because of the slow burn. But dear God, how she loved Regina.

But being so scared of holding onto something so precious was evidently detrimental. Gradually, she was letting her fingers open, and guess what?

"Don't go," Emma's throat was so parched from all those raging emotions draining her, that her voice couldn't quite travel across the distance. "Regina…"

But the brunette had carefully collected her caramel coloured trench coat from the rack by the door. She reached for the doorknob, that beautiful face contorting slightly from crying. Her demeanor was rigid, almost as if she was frightened to fall into a million pieces on the floor of the apartment. Nevertheless, Regina persevered. And within a minute, Emma was standing alone in the kitchen, clutching her heart barely struggling to beat within trembling fingers.

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	7. Chapter 7

Where did Regina drift into whilst crumbling inside and desperate for an escape? A small bar that reeked of cigarette smoke and beer and was adequately lit from yellow lights lining the ceiling. Where two men tried to collect their thoughts on bar stools and the pool table had no friendly company. There she bought an entire bottle of Irish Whiskey, collected a glass and slid into a booth, feeling the pain welling up inside her chest like a ball of barbed wires. Just cutting and squeezing and gradually threatening to kill her.

She hated herself for saying all the wrong things. Regina didn't like to drown in anger. It wasn't ever her preferred cup of tea. The taste of anger resembled the taste of black coffee without sugar in the morning. Back in the days when she used to down two cups after Machavano beat her around like a punching bag. Now, it wasn't supposed to unfold like this. Being certain of one's triggers should stop the bomb from exploding on another person. But Emma wasn't just another person.

Emma was her soul mate.

Believing in that kind of hocus pocus, as Ruby proclaimed it to be, was ludicrous. In fact, where would someone even begin to define a person that could possess the qualities attached to the phrase? She must be a fierce creature to behold, as Jane Austen would have penned once. Someone who was adorned with the kind of traits that perfectly fitted them together in every aspect. And Swan was essentially in possession of such qualities that combined them like a puzzle. Which is why Regina could literally swell up with anger and frustration within seconds.

It was simple.

Every little thing, miniscule in fact, that Emma conjured up in her conflicting behaviors demonstrated, Regina couldn't help but magnify. She couldn't help it if every expression of doubt seemed bitter enough to sting her heart. When such a prolonged absence of affection had been allowed, Regina felt inadequate. And that sense of inadequacy now existed like a crater within her chest, a crater she decided to patch up temporarily with whiskey on the rocks.

By the time Emma had managed to deliver a few punches of her own, Red showed up at the bar to greet an already drunk Regina.

"Knew I'd find you here," Lucas shook her head and slid into the adjacent seat. She plucked the bottle from the older woman's grasp and sighed. "For fuck's sake, there's only one shot left in here. Where did the rest go?"

"I drank it." Regina offered a very cute pout whilst leaning onto the table. Those brown eyes swam in tears.

"Well of course you swallowed it all. But why?" She was fishing.

"Because…" Regina tilted her head and smiled widely, "Emma's left me she…wasn't even with me in the first place. I'm pathetic. There were drugs. Little tiny packs," she demonstrated by holding up an inch of space between two fingers. "I don't know where they came from."

"Fuck, I'm sorry about that," Lucas swore again, and could clearly remember her shouting match with Emma on the phone. "Look, I asked Ron to deliver the box because I trust him, you know? I mean, he was the guy who got me out of jail when I punched that guy's face three months ago. I didn't know he would try to squeeze you for money. I don't even think he knew Emma's a cop."

"So you fucked me up," Regina drawled in her drunken state. "When I saved you from hell. This is what I get."

"Regina, I didn't know!" Red pleaded. "I really didn't know there were drugs in there. I swear to God, I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Clumsily pulling her mobile out from the waist pocket of the trench coat, the older woman slid it across the table and her chest heaved. "You have to call Emma and tell her what you did."

"I already did, babe," Lucas admitted in a soft tone. She was so wounded after witnessing Regina in such a broken state. Evidently now, without any further proof, Red was convinced that her friend was completely in love with Emma. "I talked to her. We sorted things out."

"She hates me," Regina croaked. "I said…things. I've hurt her. I told her things that made her cry. And she made me cry." Her lips quivered. "And now, I'm alone again and I can't…breathe. I want to disappear."

"Oh no," Ruby reached for the older woman's hands and clung to them. A pained expression rested on her face. "Fuck, babe. Don't say those things to yourself. Emma doesn't hate you at all. I don't even think that's possible at this point. I mean, I just talked to her on the phone and she didn't sound angry at you or like if she hates you. All I heard was a woman who really loves you. But she was just so scared that maybe you were doing drugs to fade away the pain she thought she was causing you. She felt guilty because of it, that's why she got so upset."

"Emma doesn't want me as much as I want her."

"That's not true, okay? I even went over to her place and we talked. And no joke, she's so worried about you right now, it's killing her. If she didn't love you, then why would she be worried at all, hmm? Why would she beg me to find you? Look," Red squeezed Regina's hand, "maybe things aren't moving as fast as you want it to, right? But that doesn't mean that she loves you less. Maybe she has a different way of loving someone. It could be that she's like me. She's had her heart broken already and she's cautious. Maybe she's even scared about what to expect since she's never been with another woman. But it doesn't mean that she loves you less."

Hanging her head, the older woman's tears dripped on the table. She drunkenly swirled the drops around with her finger. "I thought you didn't…like her."

"I didn't at first to be honest," Red admitted with a guilty smile. "But then when I saw how she looked after you in the hospital and how she was there every single day. Talking to you about these little things like how her day went and stuff, I changed my mind about her. I saw someone who would give you her world, just as long as you were happy. Then when she actually took you in to live with her. I mean, that's the purest kind of love ever, Regina. You don't want to lose that. Me? I'd fucking hold onto that for as long as I could."

"I'm drunk, Ruby," Regina shrugged, scrunching up her fingers upon the table. "I feel sleepy."

"All the goddamn time," Lucas swore and cast a look of disbelief around the bar. "Alcohol is like a sleeping aid for you."

Falling into a silence that really drifted on to the two of them merely staring at each other with a growing acceptance of the situation; the dull ache that had rested on the brunette's temples evidently exploded into a terrible migraine. One that she literally squeezed her eyes to prevent any kind of light from entering those brown orbs. Little by little though, sips of water and two pain killers chased the worst of it away. But after fifteen minutes, Regina, after resting her head upon the table onto folded arms, drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. And Ruby decided to tackle the bar for a plate of decent food.

Later that afternoon when Killian familiarized himself with the frantic knocking upon his front door, he asked his son in a gentle tone to turn down the telly. And then whilst Annie hovered by the door leading into the kitchen, Jones used the peephole.

He wasn't entirely prepared for the blonde's appearance upon his doorstep. She looked rather terrible, in fact, so consumed with emotions that immediately, he took Henry by the hand and led him into the den to watch cartoons with his son.

"I'll fix us all cups of tea," Annie volunteered and she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Emma, what's wrong?" Jones settled her down onto a chair around the dining table. Frowning, he offered a clean yellow handkerchief from his breast pocket.

The blonde collected it. Her hands were shaking. Eyes downcast, she finally allowed the tears to fall freely because of course, concealing as much weakness from Henry was her top most priority. The kid needed her to be his rock. Little did he know that even his tough mom could have her lowest moments. Like now.

"Regina and I had a fight," Emma croaked. "Like a terrible one." She explained to him what occurred with the box, leaving out no details and after fleshing out the arrest that was hastily made in the alleyway, Killian's astonishment grew. "I kept asking her what the hell was going on and then things got so…sore between us, that she picked up her coat and left me. Ruby showed up eventually."

"I wager that she had a lot to say," he sighed.

"She said enough to clear Regina's name," Emma nodded, wiping beneath her eyes slowly with the tip of the kerchief. "But it's not that part that makes me feel so terrible about myself. It's how she constantly doubts my feelings for her. Like I'm not ever going to be in this one hundred percent. And that makes me so stupid and pathetic."

"I'm certain," he reached out to grasp her hand, and offered a pleading look, "that this is not about you. Her desperate need to find what's lacking in you must stem from her past encounters and relationships with other people. Think about how Machavano must have treated her as his wife. Sparingly, if he had to offer a wealth of money, then maybe that was the only thing to compensate for the abuse."

When Annie arrived with a green plastic tray containing a porcelain teapot and three cups, Killian dug into a draw and collected the spoons. And after all three of them were in the company of 'spots of tea' as Jones loved to reference in the old British way, then and only then did Annie politely ask to be excused. Even after they both acknowledged that she wouldn't be intrusive, she left them to join the children in the living room with a warm smile, declaring that best friends dealt with matters among themselves best over cups of tea.

"Regina is possibly trying to cling to you on a deeper level because of your worth to her. She's finally discovered a very pretty seashell with a warm heart, and she'd like to keep it. But all the stains from her past are becoming like rashes on her soul." Jones sipped slowly.

Emma, stirred the warm liquid and stared at the swirling waves. "I can't believe she walked out on me." Tears stung her eyes from the painful memory.

Killian, however, rested his teacup upon the table. "It proves to me that she's just like you."

"How?" Swan stared at him.

"Running from a storm," he reminded her. "Emma, it's something you always do. Those fights you always had with Cassidy. You'd show up at the precinct at 1 in the morning afterwards or I'd find you at my doorstep. Remember those times you and Henry slept with Johnnie in his pillow fort?"

A smile pinched at the corner of those green eyes. "Yeah."

"He misses those. And indeed, Regina reminds me of you because just when the argument could have become full blown nasty, she ran from you. Why? To contain her anger. For it is only when we are angry that we yell things that we don't mean. I'm certain that she is feeling terrible about what was said right now. And she'd like to see you again."

"So what do you think I should do?" Swan asked in earnest.

"Red is out there trying to locate her?" he asked. His cup of tea had already drained out of the cup. When Emma nodded, he did the same. "Alright, then first, you'll drink your cup of tea and have another. We'll both sit here until your mobile rings with good news. Until then, we'll plan the rest of the night. But in terms of Henry, I think that he should sleep over until the storm blows away. The child shouldn't be exposed to so much friction. Especially since you've mentioned that he's taking a shining to Regina."

"He believes the world in her," Emma's eyes turned dreamy. "She bonds with him more than she bonds with me."

"That's because you don't make the time to connect with her, with your job and all. You need to make time." Killian advised.

That night around nine when Emma hastily agreed to leave Henry out of the drama by entertaining his sleepover with Johnnie, the blonde ventured home and waited.

Red, after calling an hour ago, had declared that she managed to locate Regina two hours prior, but was trying to soothe her nerves. After all, the older woman had, from what Lucas confessed, drown herself in a bottle of whiskey. Something that displeased the blonde, after the magnitude of their painful argument settled on her heart for the umpteenth time that night. Now, Swan was lingering in the apartment, and wringing her hands, trying to rehearse the upcoming scene without fucking it up further.

Should she keep her hair down? Let the blonde tendrils tumble down her back? Would Regina highly favor that and could it serve as a somewhat subtle spur of love and attraction between the two of them? Should she maybe put the water heater on because cups of tea might settle Regina's gradually nauseated stomach and migraine? Did the brunette become nauseated from a hangover?

Eventually, Emma discovered that standing in one attitude on the other side of the door was possibly the most calming thing ever. And as soon as three knocks persisted upon the wood, the blonde used the peephole and hastily opened up to reveal the two women; an alert and comforting Lucas with a very groggy and confused looking Regina.

"I can't stay," Red said after depositing the older woman onto the sofa in front of the TV. She sighed and bit her lips. "Um, this is your fight. I don't want to sound like I'm not eager to help. But I think you got this, Emma. I really think you do. One piece of advice though." She was already retreating to the door. "Don't take her for granted, man. I mean, back in high school, if you liked a kid, he wouldn't know how you felt unless you told him. Some kind of talking has to happen between you two. So talk to her, yeah? Tell her how she's special and how you love her. Don't hold back."

"Thanks, Red," Emma offered a sweet smile. "I really appreciate this."

After Lucas had left, the tension within the apartment began to gradually swell.

Standing couldn't be ideal as Regina constantly reared her head to locate the blonde even though nothing was said between the two of them. So eventually, Emma drew nearer, cautiously of course, with the hopes of dispelling any kind of bad vibes. Like bad coffee. The bitter taste of awful cups every morning after Neal had left her heartbroken.

"Emma?" Regina suddenly croaked. Her head lolled sideways upon the back of the soft chair. "Help."

"What's wrong?" Swan, of course, now quickened the pace to close the distance, and then she planted herself on the spot right next to the other woman.

"I couldn't see you," the brunette whined. "Where did you go?"

"I've been here all the time," Emma admitted as she deeply admired the adorable being in close proximity. Now, Regina was pouting, a look that possibly graced the older woman's face once since they had met.

"I'm sad," Regina's chest heaved.

"Me too," Swan admitted, feeling herself become more entangled in the warmest definition of love to ever exist. Slowly reaching out one hand, she entwined their fingers together and settled into the chair with mild contentment.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. For what I said. I made you cry and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," Regina began to bring forth all the bits and pieces of pain that had been tormenting her. "But when you raised your voice at me, I remembered him. I remember how he used to slap me when he thought I was lying. And how he used to break things. He broke my wrist two times," she held up her right hand and gazed at it. Green eyes filled with tears. "And I had to tell the doctor that I tripped. After I was admitted into the hospital for my fourth miscarriage, they wanted to ask him questions," Regina locked eyes with the blonde. "But he paid them not to."

"You had four miscarriages?" Emma was stunned. Her throat closed up as the anguish threatened to destroy her heart.

"Yes," Regina nodded. "I don't have another chance, thanks to him. I'm ruined."

"Don't you ever say that," Swan squeezed the other woman's hand between hers. "Please, don't ever do that. There are other options like adopting. The last thing you are is ruined. And I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, Regina," the blonde admitted in a softer tone. "I should be ashamed of myself for the way I handled the conversation between us earlier and I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. I felt so fucking stupid, you know? Realizing that I did it and I could have controlled it. Now I did something horrible that reminds you of him. And I don't want to be like him."

"You're not like him," Regina croaked. A tear trailed down her cheek. She played with Emma's fingers a little, twirling her thumb around the blonde's fair digits. "You're not a violent person. You're not abusive. You were worried about your child's safety. And fearing that I could be an addict."

Red really helped out, Emma realized in that moment.

"You must know, that I would never touch a single type of drug and even barbiturates infuriate me. Today Red had to force me to take two pain killers. Because every single drug I associate with him and my mother. Cora began abusing me way before he ever did with her words that cut like knives. She wanted to turn me into a heartless child. I became that kind of person when I killed three men."

"But now you're not that person anymore," Swan reminded her. "I'm never going to forget how you risked your life to save Henry, Regina. I don't ever think that me telling you thank you a million times would make up for what you did, without even second thinking it. You just stepped in and saved him and I owe you so much because of that."

"You owe me nothing."

"I'm such a fuck up sometimes, huh?" Emma covered her face behind splayed fingers that trembled a little. "I'm the worst kind of mess."

"No," Regina shifted closer to the blonde and gently draped a comforting arm around Swan's shoulder. "You're my girlfriend. And you're the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me in my life so far. Our love story," the brunette rested her head upon Emma's shoulder, "began so terribly tragic. But I never gave up hope that I could make it happen. I wanted to fight for you until I won you. Even if fighting meant that my mother could raise a gun at me and shoot. I did it. All for you. You must know that."

Their eyes met.

Emma bit her lips and cried softly. "Regina, you're too kind to me. Where were you all my life when I needed you so much?"

"With the wrong person, hoping in earnest that my true love was somewhere out here waiting on me to escape from a demented prison," the brunette said in a whisper.

Forty five minutes later and Regina was wiped out on couch, head of tousled dark hair resting upon Swan's lap. The bottle of whiskey had played its course. Gone was the slack tongue equipped with generous words. Now, resting like a baby, Regina curled up a little more into Emma's lap as a soft moan escaped from within her purring soul.

Emma was in dire need of fleshing out what had occurred during the course of the day. She wanted to make sense out of nonsense. To right all the wrongs. To perhaps reverse the clock and handle the earlier instance containing the box with a little more warmth. But now wasn't the time to regret what had happened. Instead, she now had to dwell on the ticking future that would bring with it so much more than what she would expect. But everything that her life had been craving to have.

Evidently, their relationship settled into something that resembled a flower in summer bloom. Through the heat bearing down on them from all the kinks turning up around every corner, Emma settled on remaining calm through it all. Like there was nothing to worry about because she was certain now of where their relationship was. And as their soft smiles to conceal uncertainty lingered for a day and a half, eventually both of them drifted closer to each other without examining their perfect flaws.

Silence between them didn't mean that the world was about to fall apart. Now they could sit together for breakfast and dinner without wondering about what doubts could be threatening to kill their love. Now Henry admired their demeanors and treasured the serenity when his mom and this other amazing woman collided. Their hearts cohabitated not only inside the apartment, but also within an expansive flourishing field of colorful flowers. Because the rainy days were gone.

Two mornings after when Emma stirred from sleep and smelt soft jasmine intermingled with strawberries, she faintly felt as if her mind was being deceitful. Then after soft dark tendrils tickled her cheek, she smiled.

Finally, Regina was brave enough to come into Emma's bedroom.

The older woman moaned softly when Swan pulled their bodies closer into each other. Because the warmth was pleasing enough to settle their hearts into a slow pace again as the sun's yellow rays cascaded through the window blinds and onto the white tiled floors. This was what morning glory probably felt like. To wake up holding the one person in the world that mattered to you more than anyone else except her kid. The one woman whom she loved so much; being so close to her was a prolonged feeling of bliss.

Gradually, Emma eased her way into the shower with a mind full of pleasant thoughts because she was now in a place where everything fitted together. Where even the smell of toothpaste was sharper and every little detail was exciting to behold. Even the crackle of the yellow shower curtain as she pulled it aside whilst slipping out of her pajamas. All of this amazed Swan because she had never felt like that before. She never felt like there was so much more in the world to behold. Things that had been taken for granted. And while she tossed her clothes into the laundry basket, and the warm water sprinkled down onto the soft caramel colored tiles, the blonde untangled her hair from a red pony holder and shook the tendrils out.

When she stepped under the spray, a soft sigh escaped from knowing that maybe a long day lay ahead, but there was someone to come home to now. Someone who meant the world to her.

Just as Emma squeezed a small amount of gel onto the soft pink puff, she distinctly heard the soft patter of footsteps on the tiled floors beyond the curtain.

"Regina?" the blonde felt stupid for asking anyway because who else could it be?

"Yes."

She sounded so close. And as those emerald eyes studied the pale yellow in front of her, as the sun's rays shone through the small window above her head, gradually a silhouette formed that resembled Regina.

"Good morning, babe," she used a pet name for the first time and literally felt her throat closing up. Nervousness kicked in. Uncertainty. Of not knowing whether the older woman would soften to the greeting or not.

The faucet's spray was the immediate reply. Regina dabbed some toothpaste on her toothbrush and studied her sleepy face. "Good morning, my love."

"Took your time to reply, huh?" Emma joked, working up the suds on the puff between her fingers. "Did you sleep well?"

"Of course I did," the brunette's words were a bit muffled as she brushed her teeth.

"I wonder why…" the blonde smiled up as the water sprayed onto her face. "Maybe it was because you had a human pillow instead of one stuffed with fluff."

"It was that," Regina rinsed her mouth and smiled into the mirror. "Added to the glory of your calming, sleeping soul."

"I like that."

A bit of movement happened behind the thin plastic barrier between them. Something soft fell into the laundry basket. And as Emma reached out to turn down the shower spray, the crackle of the shower curtain startled her.

Then those emerald eyes widened when she realized what was about to unfold so quickly as Regina revealed herself without any clothes on. Her red two piece pajamas with the cute pair of short pants was gone. And even as she stepped into the small space boldly, Emma's lips parted from realizing that for the first time since they were familiar with each other, she was beholding the older woman in all her naked glory.

Her curves were beautiful. The swell of those soft hips and perfectly shaped thighs. She had the kind of body that many woman would have worshipped. Would have prayed for. Even her breasts presented a difficult challenge for the blonde to rest her eyes upon without becoming too flushed under the spray of water. Regina was perhaps two sizes fuller and her brown nipples were already erect from the exposing situation. And the already healed up gunshot wound, leaving a scar presented an even more badass feeling about Regina.

Emma, of course couldn't quite contain her shyness from the ultimate reveal. From knowing now that as those brown eyes slowly studied her lanky but muscular body, she caught the look of lust and so much more. For the first time, she was being admired and longed for by another woman. Not a man. And the beautiful clarity of the situation only turned her on more. Because now she was finally able to understand why there were more poetry and prose written about a woman's body than a man. Why literal devices were used to reference red lips like rose petals and skin so soft like silk. Why love could be felt through words and were even more powerful to behold up close.

Regina deserved to be painted with a fine brush. She should be draped in red silk upon a bed whilst the painter captured every curl of her eyelashes and the stray strands of hair that settled on her temples. Not locked away for so many years without being able to expose her natural talent at being flawless.

"You're…divine," Swan choked on her words. "Just…wow."

Two steps forward brought the brunette an inch away from the blonde. "And you're the definition of beautiful," Regina croaked as she ran her fingers through tangled blonde hair. "I'm going to make love to you. So deeply that you will never be afraid of anything in the world again." And after divulging her intent in a purring voice, the older woman softly tasted Emma's lips.

Those emerald eyes fluttered close. She was drowning under a sprinkle of warm water but inside a tank of pleasure. Her mind swam dangerously out into an ocean of lust when Regina's fingers curve around her neck. She's too close. Moving them slowly together. Lips touching tentatively. It's so sweet like honey and perfect without the need to hurry. Lacking anxiety. God, how she wants to roll around in this feeling forever.

Regina pulled back a little. With brown eyes closed and her forehead against Emma's, she says. "Do you know what turns me on the most about you?"

"What?" Swan whispered. She held onto the pink puff and at the same time, her mind was forgetting about it.

The brunette moved in to press a soft kiss onto the younger woman's jawline. "Knowing that you've never been intimate with another woman. And I'm the one you trust enough to share something so special with."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Emma said with her eyes still closed.

Regina trailed soft kisses upon fair, smooth skin until those lips found the blonde's hardened nipples. So perfectly made. And so exiting to explore. Capturing Emma's hips between her hands, she lowered herself gradually whilst sucking and teasing with the aid of her tongue. Flicking and feeling how the blonde's body began to open up and arch into her touch.

Emma was on the verge of moaning for the umpteenth time when Regina's mouth travelled lower to her belly button. Then the span of her hips were covered in kisses and she had to lean against the tiled walls to steady herself. She had to maintain some kind of support when the water added so much lubrication to excite her pores. When Regina stole the pink puff away from her grasp and began to gingerly massage between her thighs that were growing so flustered already. The warm water was merely adding to the already growing crescendo as the brunette's mouth found Emma's weak spot.

Three times she came undone.

Swan never imagined how intense an orgasm could climb to until Regina showed her. And every single time she convulsed from those rippling waves of pleasure, the brunette sucked harder and drove her tongue deeper. Tasting and savoring and knowing the right time to go harder and then move slower. All of it was mind blowing until Emma's head lolled upon the tiled wall and her grip slackened in Regina's dark, matted hair. And even then, the brunette continued, maintaining her firm grip on Swan's thighs as she parted them further to delve in a lot more.

"Don't stop," Emma begged eventually. But by then, Regina was up again and locking their lips together in a deeper, passionate kiss that unearthed a loud moan from both of them.

She couldn't ever think straight again. Not literally. Not when she twisted the brunette around so that they exchanged positions and now she was the one tasting Regina's skin. Her beautiful honey coloured skin was so soft and her breasts were just amazing enough to linger on as Emma mirrored what had been done to her before. She sucked softly on each nipple until the older woman arched into her, and her fingers curved around Emma's neck, pulling her closer to enjoy. Needing her to do so much more.

Swan grazed her teeth down the middle of Regina's torso as she was evidently eager to go further down south for the first time. And without awaiting any further orders, the brunette parted her legs to accommodate the younger woman between her thighs. Blinding her with the feel of that soft, exploring mouth upon her clit. Emma licked slowly as if she was trying to entertain the idea of every second feeling like a minute. A minute closer to the edge as she tasted Regina's arousal and felt the brunette's body tense up gradually.

Their hands remained entwined. Regina's mind danced dangerously into a fiery pit of pleasure when Emma sucked harder on her. So that when she weakly began to ride through those intense orgasms, the blonde latched on devoured her harder and more passionately than she had ever experienced in her life. So deep and powerful, it was almost as if Emma was revealing a wilder side to her that had been caged up for too long. The side of her that yearned to take control and to torment until Regina could honestly feel how intense her love was. How glorious and beautiful that moment was for the blonde; when Emma grazed her teeth upon that already throbbing part of the brunette, Regina couldn't help herself.

She cried out hoarsely whilst squeezing her eyes shut as the blonde hoisted her up whilst squatting on the tiled floor.

Swan was so strong, of course the brunette probably underestimated that from the inception. She sitting so snugly on the younger woman's shoulder, feeling so burdened with pleasure but so light as a feather.

"Fuck me harder," Regina honestly could not contain herself enough to apply any filters. She drove her fingers deeper into blonde hair as her back moved up and down against the wall. "I'm going to…" she moaned loudly and bit her lips until she tasted blood when the climatic edge finally brought on orgasms that twisted her body one after the other.

Eventually when Emma unfolded herself enough to press the full length of her body upon Regina's shaking form, the blonde marveled further over what she had done. Because she had been in doubt about making love to a woman from the beginning. Not knowing if she would ever manage it right. And now, obviously she was doing just fine.

Their lips crushed together in a hungry kiss whilst both of them drove their hands between each other. And even though Regina was still clinging to the remaining little quakes from within her body, when Emma slipped two fingers into her, she gasped. Not because it had been such a long time. But because above all, this was their first time exploring each other in so many different ways.

Swan's mind was spinning when she felt how the older woman stretched to accommodate her fingers. Regina was so…tight. Was that the word? She could barely think properly through the haze that pleasure created in her mind. But the blonde was quite certain that giving up control to passion was the most dangerously satisfying thing of all. Because there they were, making love to each other as their fingers thrust in and out, as they moved gingerly together, and outside, the world was still chaotic. Whilst they both were in the most blissful moment ever.

Playing the power card again, Emma lifted Regina up and backed her onto the wall. She allowed her hands now to curve around the older woman's wet body as Regina's legs wrapped around her hips. And whilst still kissing the brunette deeper and slower, using tongue to torment and tease, she finally cried out in a husky voice when they connected in the most pleasurable place ever. Because it was a new feeling but a mind blowing one to understand how sex with another woman evolved into these new positions. Places she hadn't explored before.

Both of them gazed into each other's eyes as they grinded their hips together and rolled through a rhythm that threatened to suffocate them. Even Regina was blinded by pleasure so much that she lost herself for a few seconds, forgetting how to breathe when the heat between them climbed up again dangerously. And when both of them came hard in each other's arms, a bond was formed that would never ever be broken. Something so beautiful between them that would be remembered for years to come. So strong it was, their first time together, that evidently Emma realized true love maybe did exist outside of a fairytale world.

"How are you holding up though?" Killian asked two days after as four of them sat around a table in a cozy bar. He studied Regina's face.

"She hung herself," Regina said with downcast eyes. Her thumb slowly circled the rim of her glass containing whiskey. "In the end, she finished her life cleanly like a coward."

Emma sighed, considering the older woman's face intently. She was so wounded even after realizing how destructive Cora had been. Not because of the criminal the Queen of Hearts was though. But because in the end, Regina had lost her mother. Someone who had tormented her life yeah, but the one person who had birthed the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. If it wasn't for the monster whose body was now lying in the morgue, Emma wouldn't be seated next to what she was slowly beginning to believe was her soul mate.

"But she was my mother," Regina admitted in an uneven voice. She bit her lips. "And some small part of me will miss her. But every other part of my body hated her for so many years, I can't mourn her."

Emma reached for the brunette's hand and entwined their fingers upon the table. "At least you don't have to go through this alone."

"I don't mean to rise onto a pedestal and steal away from what you are feeling," Killian said softly, "but I'd like you to at least know that my father was the worst man I had ever met. He was a drunk who…abused my mother for years and ten years ago, he sent her in a body bag to the hospital. Dead. She was my pride and joy."

Annie, his wife, leaned into him for support.

"I lost him two years ago to cancer, Regina," Jones continued whilst their eyes locked. "And I'm not ashamed to tell you this, but I hadn't seen him in over fifteen years until then. Bloody hell, he was dead to me already. So when he really died, I felt just as you are feeling now. A small part of me missed him. But a larger part of me hated him so much that I moved on quickly."

"Monsters," Regina said as her chest heaved. "The kind hell will take pride in accepting."

"I'll drink to that," Jones lifted his glass and clinked it with hers. Both of them smiled. "We will never be the kind of parents our parents were. They brought us into this world. But they never made us into who we are."

"Really and truly Cora did play a substantial role in who I've become," Regina admitted with a shrug. She sipped on her whiskey and licked her lips whilst studying Emma's fingers entwined with hers. "She broke me up into tiny little pieces until it was difficult for me to put myself back together. I'm only now finding that the pieces are coming together because well…" those brown eyes rested on emerald ones, "I have someone who understands me enough to heal me."

"I'll drink to that too," Killian toasted again with a wide grin.

All four of them hit their glasses together.

"Remind me why you're drinking ginger ale again?" Emma asked Annie with a small smile.

"Ah, you know me to be a blotting paper next to my husband," she laughed with so much warmth in her eyes. "Really and truthfully by now, I could have gone five glasses in whilst the rest of you are still behind."

"That's why I'm asking," Swan said in all good humor.

"Well my drinking days are over for now," Annie said softly whilst glancing at her husband. "Until I'm in labor and I beg Killian for a few shots to knock the pain away."

Emma gasped. "You're pregnant?"

"She is," Jones beamed whilst hugging his wife closer. "Second one which means I win the bet, Swan."

"Show off all you want," Emma shook her head and scoffed.

"Now you have to drink a bottle of gin as promised." He smirked.

"What…bet are you referring to?" Regina was curious as she studied Swan's impish look directed at Jones. "Might I be enlightened?"

It was Annie who sighed before explaining. "Years ago, even before the two of them were even married, they made a silly bet whilst moving through the Police Academy together. Two kids, and a bottle of gin to the loser who falls behind."

"Oh the things we conjure up when we are most idle," Regina smiled sweetly at Killian then Emma. "Really? Betting on your future children in such an easy manner?"

"In my defense," Jones said sitting back and staring at the brunette whilst his eyes twinkled, "I was hammered that night. Emma wasn't. But she still enforced the bet for many years after." He clicked his fingers, signaling the busty waiter decked on in a Harley Quinn outfit. "Gin," he ordered with glee in his eyes. "Four shots. All for you," Killian raised his eyebrows at Emma.

"Idiot," she rolled her eyes and settled back in the seat.

"So when are you two going to tie the knot?" Annie's eyes twinkled. "Henry needs a complete family again, doesn't he? And a baby sister or brother."

Emma lightheartedly laughed. She nudged the woman seated beside her and cleared her throat. "Well…"

"I think that we're really not ready for marriage as yet," Regina interjected, resting a cool gaze upon Annie. "And I cannot have children."

Killian and Annie's faces drooped considerably from the disappointing news. It wasn't fair to Annie in her mind, that women like Regina who possibly wanted kids couldn't have them. That wasn't supposed to be the natural order of things.

"You can adopt," Annie suggested in a soft manner. "Or Emma, you can use a donor. That's a start, at least."

Killian's eyes had latched on this friend's face instantly. Whilst trying to assess her countenance, he, within seconds, tackled the walls the blonde had constructed to take a peek inside her mind. And it wasn't pleasing, what he noticed. But he wanted to remind her that things unfolded in time. Nothing should be rushed. Regina's fastidious reply about marriage wasn't the end. It could be that she wanted to work a little more on bringing herself closer with the woman she loved. At least, that's how he thought of it.

Emma on the other hand was suddenly swirling around in a pool of angst that threatened to choke her. She swallowed hard, realizing that there was a small knot in her throat. All because of the sudden declaration on Regina's part that marriage wasn't an option.

Wasn't it? What the hell was so wrong with the idea of the two of them tying the knot? Couldn't the brunette have admitted that yeah, maybe it could be possible in the future without shutting down the idea so fast? It hurt. Deep inside her gut, Swan felt more knots forming that squeezed her into an uncomfortable state.

"That's our song!" Jones said suddenly, downing his glass of Whisky. "Our wedding song. Shall I have this dance, my love?" He held out his hand in his wife's direction and she took it, blushing.

After they had left, the awkward silence that rested between the two women was obviously painful. Emma couldn't digest what Regina had said in front of Killian and his wife. She didn't understand any of it at all.

"Please don't drink the gin, Emma," Regina said softly by Swan's side in a concerned tone. "You've had three shots of Whisky already. Anticipate a migraine."

Rolling her eyes, Swan grabbed the glass and downed the liquid in one go whilst scowling. Of course, the brunette's brows furrowed. Fingers curling upon the table with the obvious intent to hold back on her sarcasm, she sighed.

"You'll regret that."

Emma, however, shook her head and stared at the bar. "Why do you care? It's not like you're going to be with me if I do develop liver problems or something."

"Providing that I'm on the same planet as you are, and I don't die first, then of course I'll be here," Regina stated in a rather convincing tone.

"Stop contradicting yourself," Swan muttered, holding onto the empty glass as those emerald eyes hardened.

"How am I contradicting myself?" Regina turned a little in the seat so that she was now facing the blonde. The softest glow of concern rested on her face. Those warm brown eyes were too mellow to depict any kind of anger burning inside.

"Is getting married to me such a freaking bad thing?" Emma began, as her emotions welled up. Their eyes met. Hers obviously were glistening with tears. "I mean, you had to tell them that you don't see marriage as an option? What the hell does that even mean?"

Regina blinked slowly. "It means that after I've been through a marriage that scarred me, I'm afraid of another one. I'm afraid of…feeling anxious even when I'm positive that we will build whatever we have together because we're in love. Right now," she rested her palm on Emma's fingers upon the table, "when I think of marriage, all I feel is bitterness and hurt and someone having control over me. I was in an abusive relationship, Emma. I need to reconstruct my understanding of marriage and a relationship and it will take time. I will not rush things. And I'm truly sorry that you are hurt because of what I said. But I hope that you understand that I need time and I'd like you to stay with me until I heal properly from what was, for me, like living in hell."

The blonde swallowed hard. Her chest heaved. It wasn't fair to settle on the forefront of things rather than delve deeper down into the wounds and scars. Regina's words were honest and sincere.

"Nah, I have to apologize," Swan said softly, taking Regina's hand into hers and squeezing. There was so much love in her eyes. "I really shouldn't take your past lightly. Yeah, I'm going to be here until you're ready."

"And I would love to have a baby with you," the brunette smiled as her heart melted from those green eyes growing so much softer. "When we do decide to go down that path, I'd like to share that special moment with you."

Emma sighed as her heart relieved itself of the hurt and pain that had built up from earlier. "I don't know if I can go through the whole pregnancy thing again, because it was mad crazy for me. But I'll do it if you're there with me. Or we can adopt. I've always wanted an Asian daughter."

"Why, Asian, Emma?" Regina cupped her chin into the palm of her hand, elbow resting on the table. She smiled. "Enlighten me."

"The hair and the…eyes," the blonde explained in awe. "They're so cute. I get that she'll know that we're not her parents. But I want an Asian daughter."

"And I want…" Regina leaned forward and rested their foreheads together whilst smiling, "…a lovely little baby from India."

"We can have both," Swan shrugged. "But you need a job first so we can take care of them without any financial strain."

"Three children, huh," Regina pressed her lips gently onto Emma's parted ones. The blonde smiled as her hand snaked around the older woman's waist. "How shall I ever handle all that chaos?"

"With your sexy wife by your side," Emma said between the kiss that deepened into one that included tongue.

EPILOGUE

The star studded night sky served as a quiet reminder that nature existed through chaos and even the happiest of times without a strain. For when one chapter in life ended, another began. Therefore depicting that the world declared all honesty in presenting itself beyond our understanding of the powerful workings of nature that continued without being interrupted.

Emma enveloped Henry's hand into hers and smiling, she inhaled deeply. They were now making fair enough progress on an overpass as the bright lights of New York stretched across the horizon. Traffic hummed beneath their feet. A few kids were tossing rocks into the Hudson River. And even though Henry longed to do the same, he allowed himself to be tugged along by his mom.

"Can I have the second one now?" he asked in earnest, face upturned as he studied Emma's pleasant countenance.

"Not until we get there," she reminded him in a soft tone. "You hate the dentist. So remember that kid. No cavities."

"Two Ring Pops wouldn't give me cavities," he whined. Henry tugged on her arm. "Come on, mom."

"No." She sighed, knowing to herself that if their roles were reversed, Regina wouldn't have been questioned further about her denial to hand over the candy. Instead, he would comply.

By the time their boots trudged across the red tiled pathway towards the university's main building, her breath came out in little puffs. Walking instead of driving maybe wasn't such a good idea. But then, she had longed for the fresh air after a long day of work at the NYPD. Not forgetting the tough case they had been delving into that involved a meth ring, spiraling out of control in the Bronx. But unlike the Red X Cartel that had faded in operations over the past five months, the new dragon rearing its ugly head lacked violence and compensated with overdoses and robberies.

"Can we see her from here?" Henry's eyes widened when the low, rumbling voice of the professor within the classroom drifted out into the hallway.

Wasn't so bad, Emma thought. Regina was now buried deep in Law classes at least four days in a week. The blonde didn't envy her girlfriend's area of study. The size of those textbooks were too massive for Swan's tastes. Most of them reminded her of the academy. Back when she was revving to become a cop just to save the world like the superhero Henry thought she was. But Regina's kind of studies weren't aimed to drive her closer to any police headquarters. She hated the smell of the bullpen in there, especially the disgusting patrol cars, as she proclaimed after Emma picked her up in one of the vehicles one night.

That was why, the brunette had glorified her existence in the prestige classrooms fit for budding lawyers or magistrates or judges. Simply because she had the kind of flair and tastes that most suited cleaner offices with clients who would pay millions to clear their stained pasts.

Hoisting Henry onto her shoulders, Emma smiled when his pair of eyes managed to reach above the window pane of the classroom. He laughed and waved. And she glanced down at the tiled pathway, hoping that no one would pass by and scold them. He was a kid, wasn't he? The kind who believed the world in Regina already. They had been spending so much time together because apart from her classes at nights, the brunette spent the days and afternoons with the kid cooped up in the apartment. If they didn't go for walks, they went shopping or to the museums. And there was those few times Regina skipped town with Henry to visit the hostels that housed broken teens and women.

"I can see her!" he said gleefully. "She waved at me. She's writing now. There are so many people in there. The professor is old. He looks like Professor Dumbledore."

"Bet he does," Emma wondered whether Regina would prefer Chinese takeout or pizza. If they decided on the latter, then half would be veggie with pine whilst the other half would be extra cheese with pepperoni and no veggies. Just the way she and Henry like it.

Swan tried as hard as she could to bury the painful conversation she had shared with Neal two days prior. She tried to swallow the words down like a bitter pill every single morning although Killian warned her not to dwell on any of it. But even then as she led Henry to a stone bench not too far from the classroom, Emma felt the words burning into her mind and heart. She felt it and she tasted the bitterness still lingering in the air although Neal had flown himself to Miami to recover.

" _You're what?" he said, staring in bewilderment at her._

 _Emma, obviously in a hurry to avoid the conversation, eyed the NYPD main building. "Look, I got to get back. It's way past my lunch."_

" _No, come on," Cassidy lightly took her arm and appeared puzzled. Conflicted. Uncertain of what else to think. "This woman. Regina. You're telling me she's your…girlfriend?"_

" _Neal, I can't talk about this now."_

" _You're sleeping with her?" his eyes were wide as saucers. And when Swan merely met his stare with a cool gaze, he swore. "Jesus Christ! You've gone crazy! Are you even thinking about this properly? What the hell happened to you?"_

" _You'd be the last person I'd expect to understand how the hell I feel," she seethed, growing totally mad about his reference to her mental health. "You've never cared before. Not when I was alone and you pushed me away over and over again. So don't play the stable one here, Neal."_

" _You're the one acting like a lesbo in front of our kid," he pointed out as traffic rolled by. "Henry doesn't need those kind of ideas in his head. He's too young to be confused and you're confusing him. Just as you're confused."_

" _I'm not confused!" she hammered him with the truth, emerald eyes flaring up. "I'm perfectly sure of what I'm doing and what I want. And thank God it isn't you!"_

" _Great," he scoffed up towards the sky. Neal threw his hands up in surrender. "Fucking great, Emma. You've become everything your aunt Belle never wanted you to become. She'd be so disappointed to know that the girl she raised ended up becoming infatuated with a criminal. Because that's what Regina is, isn't she? A dead drug dealer's wife? And you're pulling our kid into this?"_

Henry was tugging at her sleeve. She handed over the Ring Pop absentmindedly and folded her arms, glaring into the night.

"Mom, you have on your scary face," he said to her. "If it's the candy then I don't want it."

"It's not that kid," she patted his head as students began to filter through the faculty door. "I'm just kind of thinking about work."

"Pizza," he said beaming up at her, swinging his legs wildly under the bench.

"Huh?"

"I'm trying to get you to think of food. It always takes your mind off of bad things. Or Regina." He sucked on the candy.

"Yeah," green eyes rested on the familiarity of black leather jacket, black pants and a red scoop neck top as the brunette drifted nearer.

Hugging her books, she bent down gracefully, pressing those lips softly on Emma's parted ones before ruffling Henry's hair. "Hi, my darlings."

"Took you forever," Swan joked, making room for Regina on the bench. She squeezed in between the two of them and sighed. "What's wrong?" Emma asked, frowning.

"Nothing," the brunette shrugged. "I just feel, exhausted and much too well versed in the strategic framework of the High Court. Famished anyone?"

"Hell, I am," Emma admitted. "What do you have in mind?"

Regina's fingers tucked a few stray strands of blonde hair behind the younger woman's right ear. She rested her head upon Emma's shoulder. "How about…pizza? And a Netflix binge? Tomorrow is Saturday, which means no work, or school or classes."

"So we can all sleep late!" Henry piped up. "Awesome."

"That's exactly why I feel like watching Murder She Wrote."

"Come on," Emma considered those brown eyes with a look of disbelief. "Fletcher and pizza? Doesn't really fit together, does it?"

"What about a Scooby Doo marathon?" Henry suggested. He held up the plastic ring and smiled at it.

"There!" Emma pointed out, "I'll go with the kid. Fletcher," she continued as Regina pouted, "is for Sunday after lunch after Killian drops off the BBQ. Then we can settle down and do some investigations."

"Sounds like a plan," the brunette gave in. "Are we ready to go home now?" she rose up from the seat, stretched and yawned. "I can't wait to take a shower and sleep."

Emma, following in suit, bumped shoulders with the older woman. Their eyes roamed the grassy landscape of the university for a few seconds. And gradually, the blonde draped an arm around Regina. She had hoped that the bursting feeling of nervousness and being totally anxious around the brunette would die down after a few weeks. But no such thing occurred. Instead, with each passing day, Emma fell in love all over again with Regina.

From the way the older woman looked at her alone, she was quite certain of the mutuality in that area. Nothing changed between them. Nothing died down. Which was pretty amazing from the start. Simply because she had feared that their blooming attraction would dwindle down into just a relationship, as her experience had been with Neal. But not now. Now it was different. Now, she felt highly entertained to stick this one out forever.

"Mom, here," Henry stood in front of them. He handed Emma one of the plastic rings and carefully tucked his hands behind his back.

Swan, of course, studied the darn thing and wondered why in the world he had given her the ultimate prize of his glorified little world. He kept these things and made all sorts of oddities from them like wind chimes and fancy shades for the yellow lamp Regina had bought for the apartment. But this. This was new.

"Kid I um," she twirled the ring between her fingers and studied his face. "I thought you keep these things."

"I do. But I have a plan." He shifted his position and offered a little smile that rocked Emma's world. "I was thinking today that since dad left, I don't want it to happen again. You found Regina and you're so happy. So I don't want this to end. So I wanted you to use the ring as a promise ring."

She blinked at him, quite fascinated and intrigued. "You want me to what?"

"I dare you to ask Regina to wear the ring and keep it as long as she wants to stay with us," he explained in earnest. "I want you to ask her to be my mom."

The brunette swallowed hard as her heart melted. He was the sweetest darling. "Oh Henry," she croaked, tilting her head sideways as she smiled at him warmly.

"Kid, you're a work of art," Swan said to her son. "Why don't you ask her to be your mom though? Why don't you give her the ring?"

Regina locked eyes with the blonde and her smile slowly disappeared as something inside of her chest cracked a little.

"Because," Henry said matter-of-factly, "if you do it, you'll remember the promise she makes. And you wouldn't leave her ever. The two of you will stick together as long as you remember who you are to me."

"Geez, kid," Emma felt a tear trickle down her cheek and she brushed it away, laughing nervously. "You're turning on my faucet here. Good job."

"It isn't such a bad idea," Regina grasped the blonde's right wrist that had reached up to wipe at her cheek. And she held it, their gaze deepening. "I'd like you to ask me. It's a promise that will pain me to ever even think of breaking. So in more ways than one, it will offer long term effects that should please you, most dearly."

Green eyes widened a little. Of course she wasn't talking about marriage, was she? But there it was. The endearing look in those brown eyes, as if willing her to take the leap. To fall together.

"Will you…" Emma cleared her throat whilst producing the ring between them as Henry grinned from ear to ear. "Will you be Henry's other mom? For as long as the world spins on its axis?"

Nodding, Regina held out her left hand, sparkly red nail polish quite catching under the yellow light on the post above them. "Yes. I promise."

Henry handed over the other ring without wasting any time. "Now your turn," he said to the brunette. "Ask mom to stick with you forever."

Sighing and shaking her head with a small smile, Regina licked her red painted lips. She slowly blinked at Emma. "My dearest love. Will you stick…with…me together?" Regina smirked. "Like…bees to honey? Unicorns to glitter? Ah, Shaggy to Scooby Doo?"

"Jesus," Emma swept the older woman in with one swift move and she kissed her deeply. Both breathless afterwards, the two of them remembered Henry and they tried to contain their feelings. "Of course I will stick to you like unicorns to glitter and whatever else," Swan said laughing.

Then, under the faint yellow glow of the lights on street posts, the three of them continued their journey home. Their long shadows trailing behind, nothing could separate them. Although knitted together most fortunately by such unforeseen circumstances, the three were proud to continue as a family.

As the world's definition of a modern family.

 **THE END**


End file.
